#whenever this pops up i always say yes to whatever like or dislike it is cause that ju st seems right lol

[softietrait]

jayla just decided to be difficult with me and dislike wellness so now i have to change her aspiration lmao

[kalims]

ㅤbromance

premise. bro... (romantically) also still no context but those who read part one first know

parts. one , two

featuring. malleus, jade

content. gender neutral reader

note. hi... malleus is so silly boo

malleus

bros the type to stare at you fondly as you do whatever, even if it's either you're rambling about something or just quiet. he is, going to stare.

bros the type to insist you go first in wherever, the cafeteria? you first :) what a gentleman

bros the type to observe from a distance if you're locked in a conversation with someone, he doesn't want to eavesdrop but you know... he has fae heritage so his ears pick up on words.

bros the type to get secretly jealous because no one's paid him this much kindness as you and he kinda just wants you to talk to him when you can.

bro understands that he can't stop you from mingling with other people but he can make you his, and him, yours.

bros always in two moods, always interfering to whisk you away for himself, or holding back for your sake.

bros the type to slow down in his steps when he spots you struggling to keep up with his long legs (if you do.) if not he still slows down purposely so you do too because it means he can prolong your time together.

bros the type to offer you a ride if he sees you tired. if you say yes, he just smiles and picks you up without warning. don't argue because he will in fact, not put you down.

bros the type to be grateful for anything you give. a seed? wow he can plant this and the grown life will be a reminder of your thoughtfulness to give him a gift!

bros the type to give you said gifts, that might be simple in your culture but has deep roots to romance in is.

bros the type to be quality time > physical touch kind of guy but he's not that picky, as long as you're with him there's practically nothing that can convey the extension of his love for you.

bros the type to hold himself back because if he doesn't. he's afraid he might scare you off when you hear about just how much he likes you.

bros the type to ramble about lilia about your 'greatness' while the former lets him whilst chuckling. (secretly wishing you goodluck because his darling son is definitely not going to let you off easily.)

bros the type to notice the slightest shift in your mood from your face alone. he notices a lot than he lets on, the poker face when you're angry, the silence when your sad... he has a way of telling whenever you change.

^ and he's not all but forcing you to let your feelings out. if you like to resolve your feelings by your own, he leaves you alone; even if he himself is just about sulking in his room at the dorm all day.

because he knows how important feelings are. he certainly can't fully understand what you're feeling but he knows that his love for you surpasses his constant need of your presence.

bro loves all versions of you, the mad you, the 'no one can see me like this' you, or whatever version of you that you think is embarrassing. but his favorite you? (hehe yuu) it's the happy you.

so he'll always strive for your content-ness. he knows that life is too short to be sad all the time, even if your happiness could be the cost of his, (e.g going somewhere you want but he dislikes) he's had a long time to be happy.

but he's really the happiest when you are :)

bros the type to go: "oh that reminds me of them," and everyone is SO tired like.. malleus we're in the middle of a magishift match stop daydreaming -probably leona but I made it less mean :P

bros the type to hand out his food when he sees you eyeing it, "want to try?" he says. then just gives you the entire thing when u end up liking it and buys like 2 more for you. (stop him or he will keep coming back to buy it.)

he isn't even sad nor upset he gave away his food!

bros the type to look for you whenever it's time to dance with your partner on the floor. pop, rap, those ballroom music, whatever he's dragging you out there.

don't even think about declining cause who can resist him when he's looking so happy to get to you first? (despite many other people wanting to dance with him.)

bros the type to think of you when he's playing the piano so whatever composition he's performing sounds like absolute heaven. (you'd be surprised at how much he'd learn midst his long years.)

bros music just sounds like the definition of a fairy tale, slowburn love. (ahem, he's so lana del rey coded but I'm listening to happiness is a butterfly as I write this so you can paint the pic :))

bros the type to prefer quality time over physical touch, in terms of receiving you don't really have to do anything for him. sure the reassurance of your affection is nice but you know what's even better? just the notion that you're here.

even if, bros the type to melt at any type of caress you give him. rubbing circles over his palm? actually that's his thing but he can forgive you. ruffling his hair at the top of his head? well. not much dare but aren't you an endearing human! he's chuckling but there's there's unmistakable relaxation of his tense shoulders.

in short he's just practically decomposing to putty in your arms :P

bros the type to give acts of service as a form of his affection. oh your dorm fell apart again as usual? don't even ask cause if he witnesses a part of the roof falling off, just quietly waves his hand then it's fixed and better than before! 

bros the type to silently act out acts that just make your life easier overall, don't complain cause the most you'll get is him toning it down. he will NOT stop.

bros the type to watch himself in your eyes. if anything if you're both talking, the way he's looking into your eyes isn't because he's inclined to do so due to his polite manners. there's just something about the fact that he can see every single color in your iris, or maybe he can see the lovestruck expression etched on his face.

bros the type to laugh at every joke you make, even though he has to be told you're making a joke at all. imagine this, you make a joke, he just stares at you quite confused. you tell him it's a joke and he lets out the most delayed laugh you've ever heard, it's been 15 whole seconds after you spoke it and he's chortling.

it doesn't matter if he understands or not!! he'll never make you feel like your jokes are unfunny, or didn't lighten up his mood cause your existence alone makes him feel like he's practically shining.

bros the type to immediately slide his blazer off his shoulders the moment he notices you're starting to shiver, showing signs of feeling cold. don't worry ;) no need to return, he'll most likely forget and sebek would get him a new one in record speed. strangely his memory is all refreshed and full of pride when he sees it in your room.. have you perhaps been wearing it after that incident..?

jade

bros the type to show his affection through random gifts, he may be an acts of service lad but you know he just had to send you that (totally not poisonous, hopefully?) mushroom.

bro 'drops by to check on the healthcare of the mushrooms he gifted you' cause that's the only sole reason he's there… casually stays there for hours end despite him looking at it for 2 minutes and calling it a day.

bro just HAS to be the one serving your table if you happen to drop by monstro lounge for a quick meal or just there to enjoy the sights it has to offer. he was temporarily busy and someone already took your order? too bad. promptly tells the student to help someone else 'he's got it'

^ MY GUY JUST TRYNA EARN SOME MADOL.

if the definition of 'serving a dear, special customer' was even handing you your food that's been suspiciously accompanied by freebies.. then bros doing it cause apparently since you were a regular he figured it's a token of appreciation. 

you're not sure if azul is even aware he's just casually handing out freebies on his own accord.

bros the type to just sit right in front you, watch you eat, without saying anything at all with a rather eery smile but there's nothing new about that. you're just questioning why he's just.. there. in your table instead of serving the lounge.

bro said "it is fine, business is slow today.." even though if you side eye to the left you could spot nearly all tables full and 3 residents scrambling to balance all of them alone..

literally just stares at you but bro answers if you ever start a conversion or ask a question to fill the silence. you'd think he'd leave you alone after you're finished but he PERSONALLY brings it to the kitchen and 'sees you out because that's what they do for all customers.'

that's a lie btw.

bros difference of 'that look' is absolutely nothing compared to the 'plotting something bad' face which is just slightly narrowed eyes, and a pointy wide smile. so you aren't sure if you should shit your pants (99% would cause you wouldn't know he'd be giving you the look)

bros the type to dust off the dirt in your clothes but you literally just dusted it off two minutes before you two met.

bro makes the most subtle excuses to touch you, AKA including the dusting off the non-existent dirt. he's smooth with it though.

bros the type to completely be focused on you, passing by a really loud classroom while you're talking? eyes are still on you even if the professor mentions fungus.

^ (50/50 tbh).

bros the type to let you play with his hair, particularly the black strands. hide it in his hat, clip it, braid it, add pins on it.. heck, he's genuinely elated you're giving that part attention from your day.

bonus points if bro just stares intently in your eyes as you're working, it's harder to not look back than styling the portion. it's hard cause his eyes are pretty intense, not to mention mesmerizing with the heterochromia.

bros the type to let you pick out music that plays in monstro lounge. azul always questions him why he heard the customers wondering about why CPR was playing but he always shrugs and says it's a new marketing trick.

not bro but when jade is in a bad mood floyd always uses you to 'cure him' and what do you know, he is acting all better but the problem is jade is still not talking to floyd but talking to you… sibling fight tingz.

not bro once again but when jade is intent on making a decision that gives azul a headache and heart attack simultaneously, the man nearly ALWAYS tells you to "wonder out loud about how yellow would not fit the carpet of the lounge." 

bros the type to give you mushrooms instead of flowers. traditional gifts for first dates who?

bros the type to give you a MUSHROOM PLUSHIE instead of a teddy bear 😭 like jade we know you love breaking stereotypicals but please enough… you can't forget the mushroom ballpen he lended you.

bro has one of the most prominent presence in the entirety of NRC but is amused when you're totally unaware of him creeping up behind you. thinks it's funny and cute, and keeps jumpscaring you at random periods of the day.

hey don't look at him like that, he just wanted to talk to you.. didn't mean to scare you.. 😊

note. commissioned piece :D don't repost anywhere else. (plz commission me I'm broke)

[gukyi]

that’s the spirit! | myg

summary: min yoongi hates halloween. as his best friend and resident halloween-lover, that is simply unacceptable. but when halloween night rolls around and you and min yoongi feel farther apart than ever before, you discover that what’s come between you is more than just a bad trick, and that no matter what day it is, loving him is the sweetest treat of all.

{college!au, friends to lovers!au, halloween!au}

pairing: min yoongi x female reader genre: fluff, comedy, a little angst? (a little i promise) word count: 8k (woohoo! i did it!) warnings: alcohol consumption, underage drunkenness in flashbacks, misunderstandings, helpless but mutual pining, halloween parties, this is halloween during college, what else do you expect a/n: some scenes inspired by love, rosie, my absolute favorite rom-com! happy halloween, and i hope this brings some joy to your life before armageddon i mean election day rolls around! much love 🎃💜

Min Yoongi hates Halloween. 

Which is ridiculous, because you assume that there must have been at least one time in his life where he liked it. Halloween is a universally-liked holiday. It was the one day of the year where he, an unbridled child rebelling against authority, got to dress up as his favorite book character, superhero, or movie star, hang out with his friends past sunset, and solicit strangers for free candy. Free candy! How could anyone hate that?

But the thing is, it doesn’t matter what Min Yoongi was like in his youth. Ever since you met him, he has hated Halloween. For reasons completely unbeknownst to you. 

Unfortunately for Min Yoongi, just because he hates Halloween doesn’t mean that he gets to spend his October pretending that it doesn’t exist. Because, unlike him, you do not hate Halloween. In fact, you rather like it. So much so that Min Yoongi has to deal with the holiday no matter what. For better… 

“Ah! What the fuck!”

Or for worse.

You pop your head out of your bedroom to find Yoongi about to throw down with the fake skeleton you’ve propped up by the door, one of those cheesy ones from Spirit Halloween that make a zombie sound whenever its artificial brain can sense someone near it. He’s got this wide-eyed look on his face, fists up in front of him like he’s going to beat the damn thing senseless, even though Min Yoongi is barely five-feet-ten and has a body that functions exclusively on iced coffee and could probably get taken down by the average third-grader. 

Min Yoongi does not have a flight instinct. He only knows how to fight. 

He’s muttering to himself by the time you emerge completely from your bedroom, grumbling about how he nearly wet himself at the sight of the thing, fingers glossing over the plastic bones as he inspects them. There he stands in the doorway of your apartment, curled-up fists tucked inside the too-long sleeves of his too-big hoodie, pink lips parted in innocent confusion as he blinks at your apartment’s new resident. 

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” You chide from where you stand in your room, watching as Yoongi jerks his head up. The sound of your voice seems to catch him off guard for a minute, eyes wide in shock before he realizes that it’s you and his whole body relaxes. “Was that you I just heard screaming outside my apartment, Min Yoongi?”

“No,” Yoongi deadpans, fully aware that the both of you know that it was him. “Must have been someone else.”

“Yes, of course, my mistake,” you tease, coming up behind him to rub his upper arm, the palm of your hand pressing against the worn fabric of his hoodie sleeve as he sighs. “You don’t have a problem with my festive decorations at all, do you?”

“Not those,” Yoongi frowns, pointing to the orange and black streamers hanging above your apartment window, to the mini pumpkins sitting in the center of your dinky kitchen table, to the construction paper cutouts of black cats decorating your walls. He rounds on the skeleton, propped up right next to the door with the sole purpose of scaring whatever visitors you have. “This, I have a problem with. What is this thing?”

You smile proudly. “Reginald.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Yoongi looks at you, positively flabbergasted. “You named it?”

You scoff. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I? I bought him, he’s mine now, and he needed a name. So I named him Reginald. What’s the issue here?” You weren’t about to buy a twenty-five dollar plastic skeleton, set him up to be your personal doorman, and not give him a name. 

“The issue is that this—” he motions to Reginald’s face, “—is the first thing I see when I walk into your apartment, instead of—oh, I don’t know—you,” he says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

“Aw, I’m touched,” you say, pressing a hand to your heart. “Didn’t know you always wanted to see my face first thing when you come over.”

Yoongi’s gaze drifts down towards the floor, thumbs twiddling. “Well, yeah,” he mumbles, words barely audible. “Why else would I come over?”

“I don’t know, for the ambience, maybe?” You say with a shrug, watching him slide his backpack off of his shoulder and onto the floor by the couch. “Anyway, maybe if you had come with me to Spirit Halloween when I went shopping for decorations, you wouldn’t be so surprised.”

“I had two midterms that week! Two!” Yoongi reminds you.”

“I’m just saying,” you tell him, hands up defensively as you make your way to the kitchen, fishing out two teabags from the cabinet as you set the kettle to boil. You never used to like tea, but a year ago Yoongi convinced you to try this jasmine flower one from the Asian supermarket downtown and you haven’t looked back. Now there’s always at least three spare boxes in your kitchen cupboards, for you and for him. “No time is a bad time to get into the Halloween spirit.”

Yoongi sighs, loud and obvious, because this is the third year in a row you’ve brought up this conversation and it’s not any more convincing than it was the last two times. “Do we have to do this?”

“Yes.”

“Can’t we just pretend it’s November Eve?”

“Come on, Yoongi,” you plead, because he’s never given you a good explanation as to why he refuses to spend Halloween with you, and you just want to know why. “Won’t you just celebrate this one stupid holiday with me?”

“So you admit it’s stupid?”

“That’s not what I meant.” You frown at him, crossing your arms as the kettle starts whistling. 

Yoongi exhales, reaching over you to pour the boiling water into your teacups, matching His and Hers ones you bought from the sale section of Target last year for Valentine’s Day. “It’s just not my thing. You know that.”

“But we’re college students,” you exclaim. “Halloween is the best when you’re a college student! You get to dress up as whatever you want and go to five different parties and spend the night with your friends without your parents chaperoning you.”

Yoongi purses his lips, unconvinced. “So… basically an opportunity to get piss drunk in a frat house? No thanks, I’ll pass.”

“You know that I wouldn’t care what we did if you celebrated Halloween with me,” you say, leaning against the counter as you hold your mug in your hands, the heat warming your palms and steam brushing against the skin of your cheeks. “Even if we just stayed in and watched a movie. Or played one of those horror video games Jungkook’s always talking about.”

“That sounds worse,” Yoongi admits with a helpless laugh. It really does. Neither you nor Yoongi have ever been huge fans of the horror genre Jungkook loves so much. 

You chuckle. “Honestly, yeah, forget I said anything about that.”

“You know I just don’t care for Halloween that much,” Yoongi says, gazing down into the swirling brown of his mug, the steam from the water making his glasses fog up. “It’s nothing personal.”

You sigh. That’s about as good of an answer you’re going to be getting out of him. No matter what you suggest, whether it be a house party, a night in, or even just a candy feast, he has always declined, citing his unexplainable dislike for the festivities. The only reason he deals with the holiday in the first place is because you love it so much. 

“Will you at least help me carve some pumpkins please?” You ask, a last ditch effort to get him to participate. “The supermarket on Fifteenth Street is having a sale on them, and I wanted to decorate the windowsill. It’s easier with two people, you know.”

Yoongi narrows his eyes, looking hesitant. 

“Oh, please, Yoongi? Just this once? It’s not even, like, a strictly Halloween thing. It’s just a fall thing! Plus, we can roast the pumpkin seeds after for a snack,” you plead, placing your cup down on the counter so you can tug on his arms, hands wrapped around his wrists as you stare into his eyes, positively desperate. 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Yoongi says with a huff, that resigned tone to his voice that signifies that he’s caving in. “Yes, we can carve pumpkins together. That I will do.”

“Oh my God, really? Yes! Yay, thank you so much!” In a fit of excitement, surprise, and joy, you pull Yoongi in for a hug, wrapping your arms around his neck as he tilts back in shock, tea spilling out over the edge of his mug and onto the linoleum floor beneath your feet, drops of it splashing against your skin. 

“Whoa, whoa, okay,” Yoongi says, taken aback. Still nestled tightly within your arms, he carefully sets his mug down onto the counter so as to avoid more spilling, his other hand pressing against the small of your back. “I didn’t know pumpkin carving was so important to you.”

You laugh, pulling away as you look into his eyes, crinkled up into fond little crescents. “It’s not. But you are.”

“So cheesy,” Yoongi chides.

“You love it,” you remind him, pressing the side of your body against his as you lean against the counter together. Instinctively, you let your head flop onto his shoulder, fitting perfectly in the crook of his neck. “Thanks for doing this for me,” you say softly. 

“Of course,” Yoongi says. “Anything for you.”

“Look how festive campus is!”

Yoongi chuckles as he watches you skip down the main walkway, the one that winds right from the west to the east side of campus, relishing in the feeling of autumn. Yoongi always forgets that it’s fall until it hits him like a brick to the head, and suddenly it’s getting dark at five-thirty and he can’t go outside without a proper jacket anymore. It’s a week until November, and Yoongi still refuses to wear anything heavier than a denim jacket, no matter how cold it gets. It can’t be winter yet, right?

“Wow, all the tones really fit the spooky mood,” you tell him, leaves crinkling as your feet step on the fallen foliage, brown and orange and yellow and red.

“How convenient it is that orange happens to be one of Halloween’s signature colors,” Yoongi chides with a roll of his eyes. “Is the Castle still hosting that party next week?”

“The costume one? Yeah, I’m pretty sure,” you tell him with a nod. “We’re still going, right?”

“Only because it’s our first year,” Yoongi reminds you pointedly. “And since you wanna celebrate together so badly.”

You scoff. “Don’t act like it’s such a drag. I know you want to spend time with me.”

Yoongi chuckles to himself, casual and cool. He knows you’re just teasing him but quite frankly, if Yoongi could spend every day of the rest of his life with you, then he would. If he could turn himself into a witch and cast a spell to keep you by his side for the rest of time, then he would. From the moment the two of you met in your dingy dorm, you clicked. And Yoongi knew, in that moment. He just knew. 

“Oh my God, look at the pumpkins!” 

Your voice breaks him from his thoughts, your finger pointing excitedly at the carved pumpkins outside of the dormitories that line the walkway, lit candles nestled safely inside. They’ve got everything from the college logo to video game characters to the face of your lovable-but-memeable university president carved into them, decorating the street with a little more personality than normal. 

“They’re so cute, holy shit,” you tell Yoongi fondly, all endeared and heart-eyed, the same way you get when someone walks their dog through campus or a professor sends out an update email with a picture of their newborn grandchild. Yoongi’s only known you a couple of months, but already he’s starting to figure out what makes you tick. “I love them. Don’t you love them, Yoongi?”

You turn around to meet Yoongi’s eyes, and when he looks back at you it feels like his whole heart is lighter. He sees your smile and it makes his body fill with warmth, like someone’s wrapping a blanket around him, like a warm cup of hot cocoa on a cool autumn afternoon. He looks back at you, and it feels like everything is right. 

“Yeah,” Yoongi says, grinning. “I do.”

The lopsided legs of your creaky kitchen table tremble as the pumpkin hits it. 

“Damn, is this thing heavy or am I just getting weaker?” You ask, smoothing out the newspaper spread out on the flat surface of the table, two college students’ best attempt to avoid a mess. They’re old student copies with headlines like Brand New Cafeteria, but is the Food Even Any Good? and New Semester, New Me! sprawled across the front. You care about your school news, you really do, but the members of the newspaper team that hand out the papers practically stuff them down your throat whenever there’s a new issue, which is three times a week and at every street intersection on campus. So you’ve had extras lying around. 

“Nope, they’re definitely heavy,” Yoongi agrees as he plops his pumpkin onto the table next to yours with a thud. “Though it’s not like I go to the gym much anyway.”

“Didn’t we say we were gonna try and be healthier this year, since we’re graduating?” You ask. 

“That was before that new doughnut place opened up next to the ramen restaurant three streets up,” Yoongi reminds you. 

“Maybe grad school?”

Yoongi rolls his eyes, reaching over the table to grab the pumpkin carving kits the two of you bought from the drugstore down the road. “Caution. Keep out of reach of children ages three and under,” he reads. “Welp, guess I can’t do this then…”

“Ha ha, very funny,” you say with a deadpan frown, grabbing onto his wrist. “Hold on a minute, Mr. I Promised I Would Do This For My Best Friend.” Yoongi exhales dramatically as you pull him back towards the table, though it’s not as if there was much resistance from him in the first place.

You pry open the plastic wrapping that surrounds the kit, the orange tools eventually popping out of their casing and onto your newspaper-ed table. Sure, you could have probably pulled out two knives from your kitchen drawer and it wouldn’t make a difference, but spending ten dollars each on these two little pumpkin carving kits didn’t seem like a waste of money. For the sake of Halloween spirit, right?

“What do you want to carve?” You ask, handing Yoongi your open kit as you gaze at the instruction manual. Pumpkin carving shouldn’t be too difficult, should it? You cut open the top, pull out all the gunk from the inside, and then carve a face, or something. 

“I’m not a very good artist,” Yoongi admits, looking hesitant. 

“Well, the good thing about pumpkin carving is that no one expects them to look nice,” you point out. “I think I want to do that anime eyes face emoji. You know the one. Let’s see…”

You grab a hold of the plastic knife that came with the kit, hover the tip over the top of the pumpkin, and stab. It sinks into the squash up to the hilt. That’s the good part. 

The bad part is that, because you’re holding onto a knife made out of non-recyclable plastic, moving it once it’s inside the pumpkin is exceedingly difficult. You pull it right and left fruitlessly, watching as the knife sits firmly in place, the handle bending with the curve of your fingers if you tug on it too hard. 

“Oh, for crying out loud,” Yoongi says with another sigh, abandoning his own pumpkin, which he has already de-stalked in the minutes you weren’t looking his way. “Let me help you.”

Suddenly, you feel a warmth wrap around you. A figure presses against your back, this musky, coffee-laden scent surrounding you, and you watch as Yoongi’s calloused hands slowly envelop yours, fingertips pressing firmly against your skin. It makes you freeze up instinctively, jumping at the sensation of his body around yours, of his torso pressed against your back, of his breath tickling your ear. 

“Relax, alright?” He says, voice calm and gentle. He brings your hands to the knife, lets his palms rest against them as your fingers slowly wrap around the handle. You can feel him breathing, feel the slow rise and fall of his chest against you, the heat of his mouth just inches away from your cheek. “It’s just me.”

You force a chuckle. “You just surprised me, that’s all.”

You feel Yoongi pause behind you. 

“Seriously, I’m fine. Help me,” you insist. 

Steadily, albeit a little bit tentatively, Yoongi does. His hand wrapped around yours, together the two of you carve out the top of the pumpkin, his chest pressed firmly against your back, body engulfing you. He feels so close, so goddamn close, like there is barely an inch of space in between the two of you, like if he were to bend down right there and if you were shift yourself around you would see nothing but his face right in front of yours, his hazy brown eyes looking back at you, twinkling in the white light of your kitchen. 

It almost makes you want to turn around and look. 

“There we go,” Yoongi says, voice suddenly soft, quiet like there’s something else weighing on his tongue. “What are you thinking of carving?”

“I don’t know,” you murmur, lips upturned. “Maybe you?”

“I don’t make for a very attractive pumpkin picture,” Yoongi says with a shake of his head, even though that’s total bullshit for a number of reasons. 

First of all, a pumpkin portrait is by no means meant to be an attractive portrayal of you, unless you’re Keanu Reeves and you look photogenic no matter what. Second of all, there has never been a time where Yoongi has not looked good. He always does. He did during finals week when his body was made of nothing but iced coffee, he did in freshman year when the two of you would stay awake until the early morning getting vodka spilled all over you in frat houses, and he does now, tired eyes and soft skin, dark hair and pink lips, standing in your apartment like he belongs here, like this is where he was meant to be. 

“I think you would,” you tell him honestly. “You’d look good no matter what.”

Yoongi’s silent at that, but you can tell from the way his cheeks are turning red he’s taken the compliment to heart. It makes you want to shower him in them. It makes you want to freeze this moment in time, suspended in reality, and stay like that forever. 

“Then I’ll do you,” he says with a grin, because what else would he say? Who else would he choose? You are going to put two matching pumpkins on your windowsill, and they will be of you and him. Messy, Picasso-style portraits carved into the orange skin. Two best friends, together even as fucking pumpkins. 

You will carve out a picture of him, and he will carve out a picture of you, and isn’t that what this is really all about?

“Do you think people are gonna get the wrong idea about us?” 

“What do you mean?”

Yoongi turns around to face you where you stand in front of your dorm mirror, this giant plastic one hanging on two hooks that you’ve latched onto the door of your room. He knows that you can see him in the mirror, staring back at you with a black mask over his face and a cape draped over his shoulders, the giant yellow emblem printed out on a piece of paper and taped onto his chest. It’s a last minute costume, for sure, but it gets the job done nicely. 

“I mean,” you say, fixing the cat ears that sit atop your head. “Do you think people are gonna think we’re a couple, or something?”

Yoongi grins nervously and hopes that you don’t notice. “I mean, we’re just going to a frat party. I doubt it’s going to be light enough to see anything at all. Why?”

“Well, I don’t want people to get the wrong idea about us,” you say, adjusting the mask over your eyes. Yoongi, unabashedly, rakes his eyes up and down your figure. Your black turtleneck and skintight leather leggings don’t leave very much to the imagination. You’re definitely much more in costume than he is, to say the least. 

“We’re freshmen, people already have the wrong idea about us,” Yoongi scoffs. 

You turn around just so you can shoot a frown his way. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Why are you so worried about people getting the wrong idea about us?” Yoongi asks you, an eyebrow raised. This does not exactly bode well for him. “We can be Batman and Catwoman together no matter what people think.”

“I don’t know, I guess I just—” You stop in your tracks, letting the words fall off your lips and crash to the floor. “Never mind, it’s stupid.”

“What? You can tell me,” Yoongi says, concern lacing his voice. He rushes over to you, the two of you staring at your reflections in the mirror. Two friends, clad in black, wearing matching costumes. If Yoongi wasn’t sober right now, maybe he would actually do it. 

Maybe. 

“It’s nothing, it’s nothing,” you shrug it off with a shake of your head. “I’m happy to be doing this with you. Even if your costume totally sucks.”

“Hey!” Yoongi exclaims defensively. “It is not my fault you came up with this idea last minute even though you already owned everything. I had to pay twenty-five cents to print this in color, you know.”

“A Twenty-five cent costume and you still look good.”

You and Yoongi smile at each other in the mirror, lips turned up as you stare at yourselves, wondering if this is all you will ever be, or if there is something more. 

Yoongi sure hopes it’s the latter. 

And he’s determined to find out, once and for all, tonight. 

You’ve just lit the candles that sit inside yours and Yoongi’s pumpkins when you hear the knock at your door. 

You’re sure that Yoongi can hear you from a mile away as you scurry towards the door, white platform heels clapping against the floorboards with every step you take. You’re going to have to practice walking in these a bit more. Maybe you shouldn’t have bought them only a week before Halloween, and maybe you should have at least tried to break them in a little bit. 

“Hello?” You swing open the door. 

“He—whoa,” Yoongi begins before his eyes widen to the size of the moon as he fully takes in the sight in front of him. “What’s with the—uh, the… dress?” He’s scratching at the nape of his neck, eyes sweeping up and down your body. 

You hold out the skirt of your sequined, bedazzled dress as best you can, and grin. “I’m a gogo dancer! What do you think?”

“Wow, I—” Yoongi starts, a little speechless. “I don’t know. Wow. You look… you look nice, Y/N.”

You smile, thankful for the compliment. Yoongi seems weirdly breathless, blinking more often than usual, like he’s trying to convince himself that what he’s seeing is real. Although, you will admit that this dress is much more sparkly than anything else you have in your closet. You reckon a few disco balls were sacrificed to make this costume. 

“Why—uh, why did you call me over? Did you need something from me?”

“Actually, yes,” you say, ushering Yoongi into your apartment. 

As he’s walking inside, Yoongi notices the pumpkins sitting on your windowsill. “Hey, those look cute together.”

“Don’t they?” You say proudly. Nobody else has commented on them, but then again, you live on the fifth floor of your apartment, so you don’t imagine many people can even see them from ground level. But it’s nice to know that they’re there, and that they mean something. Not to a whole lot of people, but to you. And to him. “But that’s not why I asked you to come over.”

“Why, what’s up?”

You freeze when he looks up at you, like you can hardly will the next few words to come out of your mouth. They’re stuck at the dam of your lips, refusing to budge, because there is this tiny, this little part of you that doesn’t even have the courage to ask. To say it. Because you know already. 

“Hoseok’s throwing a party tonight—”

“No.”

“You didn’t even let me finish!”

“But I know what you’re going to say,” Yoongi says like it’s obvious, because it is. “You’re going to ask me to come with you. And I don’t know how many times I have to tell you this, Y/N, but I am not going to go. I’m just not.”

“But it’s not a shitty frat party or anything!” You exclaim, desperately trying to dig yourself out of a hole you’re already six-feet in. “It’s at his place, an apartment across campus, with just some friends of his. There won’t be crazy music and sleazy guys and jungle juice. It’s just going to be a house party.”

“I don’t care, I don’t want to go,” Yoongi tells you. “There’s nothing you can do to change my mind.”

“Why? Why won’t you go?” You demand, because the least your best friend of nearly four years could do is give you a real reason. A real reason as to why he hates Halloween, why he never wants to celebrate it with you, why he never wants to go out with you on your favorite night of the year. 

“Because I just don’t want to! Why can’t you just accept that? I don’t want to go!”

Silence. It’s almost as if Yoongi’s shocked he was even speaking so loudly in the first place. 

Next to you, the candles flicker. 

“I don’t get it,” you say, resigned. “I don’t understand. This is our very last year to celebrate Halloween as college students, as best friends, and you can’t even give me a real excuse as to why you won’t come with me.”

Yoongi frowns. “What do you mean, ‘a real excuse’?”

“Exactly that,” you say sharply. “A real excuse. Even when I offer for us to just stay in and eat KitKats and watch a shiity movie you refuse. All because it’s Halloween. I don’t get it. It’s not the crowds, and it’s not the drinks, and it’s not even the other stuff, like the pumpkins and the decorations. Is it me? Am I the reason you don’t want to celebrate Halloween?”

“No, what the fuck, it’s not you!”

“Then what is it, Yoongi?” You plead, not even making an attempt to lower your voice. Can’t he hear the sheer desperation in your voice? The hopelessness? “Why won’t you just tell me why you don’t ever want to celebrate this goddamn holiday with me? Is it my fault?”

“I just don’t!” 

The sound of Yoongi’s shouts echoes throughout your living space, bouncing off of the walls. You look back at him, feeling helpless, but he doesn’t look angry, or enraged. He looks exhausted. Like this conversation has knocked the wind right out of him, stolen the breath from his lungs. Like suddenly the pot has boiled over, only it’s extinguished the flames that kept it burning. 

“I just don’t,” Yoongi repeats, fists clenched tightly by his side. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

He gives you one last tired look, matching your own defeated expression, before turning around and walking out of your apartment. The door shuts firmly behind him, neither a slam nor a gentle stop, leaving you stranded in the middle of your living space, watching his silhouette disappear. 

You sigh. You don’t think Yoongi will ever tell you why he hates Halloween. And while that may be no fault of your own, you can’t help but feel like it has something to do with you. 

Yoongi could probably count the amount of times he’s gone to a frat party on one hand, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t already know everything there is to know about them. In his eyes, once you’ve been to one, you’ve been to them all. 

Still, he supposes that it being Halloween makes this one a little different. Everyone’s in some sort of costume, whether it be good or bad or just plain old lazy, and there are at least a few orange and black decorations lining the walls of the Castle, and they’ve curated a playlist with Halloween songs as well as rap songs Yoongi has heard plenty of times before, so for once, Yoongi will give the fraternity a bit of credit when it comes to their Halloween party-planning. 

Beside him, you take another giant chug of your drink from the orange solo cup in your hand, wincing as the alcohol burns your throat on the way down. 

“Hey, take it easy, okay?” He says, though he doubts you can even hear him over the music, loud in the kind of way that his ears are going to be ringing far into tomorrow morning. 

“I’m fine!” You shout back, even though you are definitely not. The entire room reeks of a mixture of vodka and sickly sweet soda. 

“I just want to make sure you’re not overdoing it!” He tells you as the two of you get shoved together from some massive guy pushing past Yoongi and sending him crashing towards you. He catches a glimpse of the contents of your cup, eyebrows raising when he sees that it’s almost empty. You just got that drink five minutes ago. 

You smile. “I’m not!”

The song changes, and Yoongi swears that he can feel the entire house shake as everyone screams, cheering as they bounce up and down, dancing to the beat. Next to him, you are finishing the last few drops of whatever’s in your cup, finding an empty ledge to place it down on when you’re done, and pulling him in close to you. 

“Let’s dance!” You shriek excitedly. 

And who is Yoongi to resist?

He lets you take your hand in his own and parade him around the tiny little space the two of you share, a couple square feet of freedom in this crowded room, chock full of sweaty bodies just like his. Yoongi may not have had as much to drink as you, but the little bit of alcohol in his system is already shutting down normal mental processes like not-staring-at-you-constantly and pretending-that-he-likes-you-just-as-a-friend, sending him into a tizzy whenever he meets your starstruck eyes.

Even in this dingy, sweaty, unventilated fraternity living room, you are beautiful. You are beautiful here, and you are beautiful at three in the morning after twelve straight hours of studying, and you are beautiful after spilling the dining hall’s chicken noodle soup all over yourself. 

God, you’re the only person Yoongi is looking at in this room. You’re the only person he sees. 

Shaking his head, Yoongi abandons those thoughts as the song comes to an end, a hand wrapped around your wrist as he leans into your ear. “Do you wanna go outside? It’s hot in here!”

“Okay, whatever!” You agree easily, too easygoing after you’ve got a few drinks in you. 

Yoongi grabs a hold of your sweaty hand and tugs you towards the back door, one that he thinks leads to a fenced in backyard. You squeeze through the crowd, getting a couple of drinks spilled on your shoes on the way until you reach the back door and Yoongi fumbles with the knob, shaking it a couple of times before it gets loose. Eventually, the two of you stumble outside into the backyard, where a couple of people are playing beer pong and a couple of others look like they’re making out. 

It’s a frat party. What else did Yoongi expect?

It’s the end of October, and Yoongi doesn’t even have on a jacket, but the chill of the night has little effect on him after being in a room that’s felt like one hundred degrees for an hour. Out here, Yoongi feels like he can finally breathe. 

“It’s kinda cold out here, don’t you think?”

Yoongi doesn’t even have time to respond before you’re wrapping yourself up in him, curling into his body and placing his arm around your figure, letting the heat from his frame radiate onto your skin. 

“Better than being in there,” Yoongi reasons. 

“But aren’t you having fun?” 

He looks down to see you looking up with him with big, wide eyes, like you’re afraid that he isn’t having fun, or afraid that you’re enjoying this night more than he is. It makes him smile. “With you, I am.”

You grin at that, turning back to face forward, head pressing into the crook of his neck. “That’s good to hear,” you tell him. “It seemed like you were kinda nervous.”

“Nervous?” His voice cracks as he says it. Fuck. 

“Yeah, is there something you wanna tell me? It looks like you’ve been dying to say something all night,” you comment mindlessly, clearly much more observant now than you are when you’re sober. Or perhaps, Yoongi’s just more obvious. 

He takes a deep breath, pressing his eyes shut tightly. This is his chance. He knows it. 

“Actually, yes, there is,” he says, and it feels like he has to force the words out of his mouth because they’re refusing to come out on their own, pausing at the edge of his lips. It feels like he has to overcome his own mind in order to tell you, feels like every word is a sucker punch to his lungs. 

You pull away from him, looking up at Yoongi with big, blinking eyes. It’s a clear night, and Yoongi knows because he can see the fucking stars reflected in your pupils, see them twinkling as your glossy eyes gaze back up at him. You look up at Yoongi and God, you are just so beautiful. You are beautiful, and Yoongi wonders, then, if you know. If you know how Yoongi looks at you. If you know how he feels about you. He is so in love. It doesn’t take a genius to figure that out. You are beautiful and he is so in love, and he’s been dying to tell you that and this might be his only opportunity to do so, because tomorrow will be a new day and Yoongi won’t have the guts tomorrow. This is his only chance. 

You deserve to know. 

“Well?” You ask him. “What is it?”

Yoongi wraps his arm around the small of your back, pulls you into him, and presses his lips to yours. 

Hoseok’s party is fun. It’s definitely one of the better ones you’ve been to in your four years of university so far. There aren’t too many people, and the drinks are actually good instead of just burning your throat, and his music taste is impeccable. 

And yet, you don’t think you’ve ever been so unenthused at a party in your whole life. Thriller by Michael Jackson blares from Hoseok’s television speakers, chatter fills the room, and Hoseok’s girlfriend, Haebin, is constantly checking up on you, but never has one place felt so empty. 

It’s not really very difficult for you to wonder why. 

“Hey, Y/N!”

You whip your head around to find Haein standing by the kitchen table, gesturing towards Hoseok as he’s looking up the recipe for a drink he wants to try. 

“You want one? Hoseok’s trying to make Long Island Iced Tea,” Haebin asks. Next to her, Hoseok is struggling to get the measurements right. At least he’s making an attempt. 

You stare down at your nearly-full cup of strawberry daiquiri. You took one sip when Haebin first handed it to you thirty minutes ago, and haven’t touched it since. “No, I’m alright, thank you.”

Haebin sighs, patting Hoseok on the back encouragingly before she makes her way over to where you’re sitting on their couch, pressed up against the arm of the sofa as you mindlessly swirl the drink around in your cup, eyes zoning into the whirlpool you’re creating. She sits down next to you with a smile, with the kind of look on her face that makes you simultaneously thankful for and dread the conversation you’re about to have.

“Hey, what’s the matter?”

“Nothing, I’m fine.” You don’t even believe yourself when you say it. 

“Listen, you don’t have to tell me. I just know that Halloween is your favorite holiday and I was wondering if there was something getting you down tonight,” Haebin says in that comforting, gentle sort of way, like an old friend who knows all your tells. 

“It’s not a big deal, really. I think I’m just out of it tonight,” you say, not drunk enough to divulge more information but also not sober enough to keep your mouth completely shut. 

Haebin smiles at you, lips pursed. “Alright then. If everything’s alright.” She pushes her hands onto her thighs as she gets off of the couch, heading back towards the kitchen to help Hoseok figure out how to mix drinks. But before she leaves you alone, she turns around and says one more thing. “You know, I don’t know why Yoongi’s not here or anything, but I wish that he was. You always look so much happier whenever he’s around.”

And that just sends your mind into meltdown. 

Defeated, alone, and best friend-less, you place your cup down on the end table to your left and get up off of the couch, beginning to gather your belongings, your coat and your shoes and your bag, tugging your arms through the sleeves as you storm towards the door, eyebrows knitted together, lips pursed.

“Hey, where are you going—?”

“I gotta go, Haebin. I just—” You pull on a shoe, tugging at the boot as it slips over your heel, “—I gotta go. Thank Hoseok for me, okay? I have to go.”

You only have time to catch Haebin nod, wordless, before you tug open the door to Hoseok’s apartment and stomp outside.

This is the worst Halloween of your life, bar none. The time when you were four and you tripped over a curb on the sidewalk, spraining your ankle doesn’t even come close. It’s your very last year to celebrate Halloween as a college student, to celebrate it by getting dressed up in a low-effort costume and spending time with your friends, and your best friend isn’t even here. He refused. 

He refused and you still don’t know why, but worst of all he refused and you still wish he was here. You wish you could have spent time with him tonight. More than anything else. You wish you could have spent the night wrapped up together on your couch, or on your bed, watching your favorite television shows and enjoying each other’s company. You wish you could have curled into his body as the television blared, pressed your head against his shoulder and felt the warmth of his skin on yours. God, you wish you could have. 

You wish you could have told him. 

You wish you had the guts to. 

Twenty minutes later finds you outside one of the dozens of frat parties likely occurring on campus right now, the bass from the music so loud that you can feel it in your eardrums even outside of the building. No part of you wants to go inside something like that, but at this point you start to wonder if maybe hopping different frats is actually your best idea. Get a drink, get drunk, and then move onto the next one. Rinse and repeat until you don’t remember a thing about this terrible, awful night. 

As you walk along the sidewalk, you spot another student sitting on the curb underneath a leaf-less tree, a cheap black drugstore masquerade mask covering the top half of his face. He doesn’t seem to be having a particularly enjoyable night either. 

Normally, the last thing you’d want to do is sit down next to a stranger whose face is disguised, because who knows what could happen to you if you do, but there are at least twenty people surrounding the two of you, loitering outside the frat house in the hopes that they can eventually get inside. And honestly, you could use a fucking break. 

As casually as you can possibly manage, you take a seat next to the boy, a few inches apart from him as he looks up at you. You can’t make out too much in the dim light of the frat house, but he’s illuminated just enough for you to see his eyes widen at the sight of you. 

“You don’t mind, do you?” You ask. 

He shakes his head. 

You smile in thanks, shifting around where you’re seated on the cold cement, eyes drifting all over the place, from the houses across the street to the road to the people standing around, anything to avoid turning back towards the boy and initiating an even more awkward conversation. Sitting down, the world stops spinning, just a little bit. You didn’t have too much to drink at Hoseok’s, but it was enough to loosen your mind. 

“Can I say something?” You say loudly, turning towards the boy. 

It was enough to loosen your lips too, apparently. 

The boy stares back at you, silent. 

“I’m sorry, I just need to get this off my chest.” You close your eyes, breathing in and breathing out, feeling your chest rise and fall. “I am not having a great night. And I wish I was out here with another friend of mine, instead. He’s my best friend, actually. He just… didn’t want to come out tonight with me. But I wish he was here, because I love spending time with him, and I miss him.”

The words spill off of your tongue like lava from a volcano, bursting from your lips completely unfiltered. It surprises you, a little, how much you actually have to say. How much has been weighing on your chest.

You don’t expect him to respond. Truthfully, you can’t even believe you’re unloading all of your baggage onto him in the first place. Since when are you the type of person to tell other people about the tragedies of your life?

But then, he says, “You do?”

And it makes you wonder what else you’ve been keeping hidden. 

“Yeah, I guess I do,” you realize. “I love spending time with him. He makes every day brighter, turns everything he touches into laughter. And I wanted to spend time with him tonight because I actually thought he would want to. You know, we carved pumpkins together a few days ago. Of each other’s faces.” You force out a laugh. “We carved each other’s faces into pumpkins and he still isn’t here tonight. I wanted him to be here because he’s my best friend, and because he makes me so happy, and even other people are noticing what effect he has on me. Noticing how fucking happy he makes me. Because he does. I feel like I’m a better person with him. I want to spend the rest of my life with him and he’s not here and instead of going to look for him I’m sitting here telling you the sob story that is my life and I just wish—”

“Does that mean you love him?” The boy asks softly. 

“What?”

“Does that mean you love him?”

You turn to look at the boy, eyebrows raised, almost ready to deny such a thing, but when you open your mouth, nothing comes out. 

How could you say you don’t love Yoongi? Of course you do. He is your best friend. You never want to live a day when he’s not by your side. You want to spend the rest of your life with him. He makes you smile and laugh like it’s nobody’s business, brightens your day without even trying. Just seeing him is enough to lift your spirits. Seeing his face on the other side of your apartment door, all ripped jeans and Converse sneakers, hands wrapped in the sleeves of his hoodie, dark brown eyes blinking back at you, pink lips parted in a grin. That image you have of him in your head—it’s one you don’t ever want to forget. He is standing in your apartment, lips upturned, eyes crushed into crescents, smiling at you. He is mid-laugh, grinning from ear to ear at something you said. He is right there. 

“Well, yeah,” you say, because what else are you supposed to do? “I guess I do.”

Suddenly, your chest feels a whole lot lighter. 

The boy next to you smiles, the dim light barely illuminating his features, but when you look at him there is something so strangely familiar about him, about the way he blinks at you, about the peak of his Cupid’s bow, about how his lips are stretched into a grin. It couldn’t be him… could it?

But before you have time to ask, he is leaning towards you and pressing his lips atop yours, crashing your mouths together in a desperate, messy kiss. His palm presses against your cheek and you can’t help but sink into it, sink into the way his other hand curls around to rest on the small of your back, let yourself be engulfed by him. 

You’ve never kissed Yoongi before, but you know that this is what it must be like. 

You know, from the way your blood starts to sizzle, sparks rushing through your veins. From the way your heart is pumping, loud and clear in your ears, like it’s been jolted to life. Like a shock is running through your body. Like a warmth is filling you up, from the inside out. 

When you part, as Yoongi takes off his mask, he can’t keep the smile off of his face. “I knew it. I knew you loved me.”

“What are you doing out here?” You ask, positively shocked. “I thought you hated Halloween.”

“I do,” Yoongi confirms. “Or, well, I did, I guess.”

“Then what changed?”

“You. Us. We changed,” Yoongi says, motioning between your bodies. “I hated Halloween because it had bad memories for me. Nothing crazy, but, yeah. You don’t remember?”

“What?” Your mouth drops open. “What should I remember?”

“We kissed that night.” Yoongi begins, eyes shifting down towards the ground. Clearly recalling this is awkward for him. “Halloween, freshman year. Outside of the Castle.”

You don’t remember this at all. 

“Well, I kissed you and you kissed me, and I thought that we had established then and there that we liked each other. You know, like, really liked each other. But you were so drunk that night. I don’t know what you had, but you could hardly walk by the time I got you back to your dorm. Your roommate was furious with me.” He shakes his head at the memory, replaying in his mind like a movie. “And I thought, okay, we’ll just talk about this tomorrow. But you must have had a wicked headache or something, because I saw you the next day and you said—”

“God, whatever happened last night, I don’t want to know.”

It’s the middle of the day, the sun high in the crisp November sky, but you have been cradling your forehead ever since Yoongi last dropped you off, back at your dorm, when you were slowly starting to crash. 

“What?” His voice is hollow, empty. 

“Last night fucked me up real good,” you say with a huff, shaking your head. “I’m glad I don’t remember what happened last night.”

As Yoongi traipses back to square one, his heart shakes in its cage. 

“I guess you just didn’t remember,” Yoongi tries to explain, much to your horror as you realize that you and Yoongi have been crushing on each other hopelessly for three years extra without you even realizing it. “So, uh, yeah. That’s why I didn’t like Halloween.”

“You kissed me that night?”

“What?”

“You kissed me that night? Outside of the Castle?” 

A tingling on your lips. A faint feeling of warmth. You remember bits of that night. It was cold, and you were freezing in your costume. And you and Yoongi had gone outside to escape the crowd, and he said something, and then you said something, and then he—!

“Yeah.” Yoongi nods. “I did.”

“And I didn’t remember?”

“I mean, you were really drunk.”

Your shoulders sink, the thought of Yoongi, helplessly pining after you for three more years because he thought you didn’t like him like that, because he thought that the love you shared was one-sided, still sticking by your side as your best friend. At the thought of him deciding it was better to be best friends and keep that love hidden than tell you and risk it all over again. At the thought of him accepting what he thought was his fate. 

“I’m sorry,” you say. What else is there to tell him? If you had remembered, if you just didn’t say those words, if you had just told him how you felt, this would have all been so much easier. 

“It’s okay now,” Yoongi says, expression growing fond as he pulls you in for a hug, sad to see you so gloomy. “You love me and I love you. What more could I want?”

A realization dawns on you. 

Pulling apart from him ever so slightly, you quirk an eyebrow. “You know, you could have just kissed me again the next day, and then we wouldn’t have had to deal with all of this. Plus, you would have still liked Halloween.”

Yoongi scoffs, pressing a kiss to your icy cheek. “So what? I like it now, how about that? I fucking love Halloween now. It turned my best friend into my girlfriend. She’s the love of my life. We can celebrate every Halloween together from now on until the end of time.”

You grin, pressing a kiss back on his little button nose, pink from the cold. Finally. “That’s the spirit.”

↳ don’t forget to message me with any thoughts or feedback!

[ellitx]

helpppppp i read that scenario of reader sleeping over, and I couldn’t help but imagine that they all share the same room when that is. Also what do you think the twins would do to get readers attention over the other?

Im gonna set this back when you’re in the middle school or something.

masterlist

fluff

word count: 1.6k

You and the twins are already comfortable with laying on each other’s bed whenever you/they visit. Your mother, Amos, even brings snacks to your room for them to eat and she always gets excited whenever they come to your house.

She’s even the one who insisted if you wanna invite them for a sleepover! Your father, Decarabian, always disapproves whenever you ask him if you can sleep at the twin’s house. (Also because uncle Andrius is there and he doesn't want you to get close to him)

Himmel and Venti were having friendly bickering and thinking over what gift they should give to your mother as thanks for welcoming them in. Amos accepts anything! She really appreciates they’ve put an effort to do it but later on, feels guilty and that they didn’t have to do it.

Speaking of gifts, your birthday is almost coming. Himmel and Venti thought at the same time. And while Aunt Amos is here...

You already know that they also have the same idea to ask your mother what you would like to have as a gift but have different methods to approach her.

It was Himmel who first asked aunt Amos about it. Well... not really her but someone else. It was after dinner and he decided to help her out and the maids in cleaning the dishes. He was really nervous and shy to ask her. Is it really alright if he questions aunt Amos what are your favorites? Will she get disappointed that he doesn’t know what your likes and dislikes are for the entire years he grew up with you?

Himmel sighed and continues to wipe the dishes with a dry cloth and puts them inside their respective racks.

“Master Himmel is everything alright?” A maid suddenly asked in concern, surprising him.

“We can handle everything here. If you’re getting tired, we’ve already prepared and tidied the room as what the Young Mistress has ordered.” She continued. The boy blinked before shaking his head and giving a soft smile to her way.

“Oh please don’t worry about me! I’m just thinking about something.” His attention was back on the ceramic plate and he carefully does dry it.

“Is it perhaps the Young Mistress’s birthday is coming soon?”

Himmel almost dropped the plate if it were not for him to quickly regain his balance and tightly hold on to it for dear life. He looked at the maid in utter shock, his face was scribbled with bafflement and embarrassment as he owlishly blinked at her.

Was he really that obvious the maid managed to point out his current problems right on spot? Well, It’s better to talk to her about this right? She knows you more than him after all.

Himmel nodded and set his gaze on the plate, mirroring his appearance.

“What do you think [Name] would like to receive as a gift?” He muttered under his breath as heat began to crawl up to his face up to the tip of his ears.

“Young Mistress’s favorite?” The maid echoed. She then placed her gloved hands to her chin, deep in thought.

“I’m sure she’d love anything as long as it’s from you. It’s the thought that counts, is it not?” She said before turning off the faucet to avoid wasting water.

Himmel was quiet for a minute.

Anything, huh?

—

Venti would directly ask Aunt Amos what gift you would like when she was preparing night snacks for the three of you. The younger twin snuck out of the room and left you and Himmel alone to play some video games.

As much as he’d hate not being included there and missing out on the fun, the most important matter right now is the gift you’ll get for your day of birth!

“Aunt Amos! Aunt Amos!” Venti cried and slammed the door open to where the kitchen is. The said woman shrieked at the sudden intrusion and looked over her shoulder to see the culprit behind her almost heart attack.

“Venti... goodness you gave me a fright there.” Amos chuckled and continued to prep up an iced tea.

“Aunt Amos, I wanna ask you something!” He said and leaned over the counter to take a peek at what she’s doing.

She stopped whatever she’s doing and wiped her hands with her apron before setting her focus on the short male.

“What is it?”

Venti walked back and cleared his throat behind his fist as if he were going to make a speech.

“A man is sitting in a pub feeling rather poor. He sees the gentleman next to him pull a bag of 100 Mora out of his pocket.

He turns to the rich man and says to him,

'I have an amazing talent; I know almost every song that has ever existed.'

The rich man laughs.

The poor man says, 'I am willing to bet you all the money you have in your wallet that I can sing a genuine song with a lady's name of your choice in it.'

The rich man laughs again and says, 'OK, how about my daughter's name, [Name]?'

The rich man goes home poor. The poor man goes home rich.

What song did he sing?”

Venti ended his riddle with a smile at the woman. Amos seemed to be contemplating his question very well and it’s not often she gets to participate in his brain-teasers. So this is very much a surprise for her.

Well, enough about that, she has to answer this quickly and she doesn’t want to make him wait for her longer. Going back to his riddle, was the rich man supposed to be her husband? Venti did mention your name when the poor man asked the rich man.

A song that has your name...

“Is it Happy Birthday?” She answered.

“Bing bong!” Venti’s fingers were formed to an okay sign and gave her a big grin.

“Knowing the answer is Happy Birthday, I suppose you’re also going to ask me about [Name]’s gift, am I correct?”

Venti let out a hearty laugh and winked at her. “Correct once again, Miss Amos!”

“Sooo...” He held on to the chair’s backrest and gave her the best puppy eyes he could muster to get another answer from her.

“Please please please please tell me what [Name] would like— no, LOVE to get on her birthday!!” He begged and clasped his hands together as if he was praying to a god.

“Now, now, isn’t that cheating? Your brother never asked me about this so isn’t it fair for you if you guess as well?” She remarked as she arranged the brownies on the plates.

“Wait— Himmel didn’t ask you?!”

Oh, how foolish he was to think the older twin actually asked your mother. Was he thinking too much when Himmel helped her out in cleaning the table? Perhaps yes, perhaps not. Or maybe Aunt Amos is hiding something that even she cannot tell the hidden secret to him?

“Well, I suppose I can give you a hint on what it is.” Amos motioned for him to come closer in which Venti quickly obeyed. Venti took note of all the words left from her lips in his head and is beginning to plan out events on the next days before your birthday.

His smile was brighter than the sun in this nightly hour and his eyes sparkled in excitement and joy. Even though her hint lacks information and clues he could deduct, he at least speculated it must be that item!

“Thank you, Miss Amos! That’s already a good hint for me! Now if you excuse me, I suppose we can eat this already...?” He sheepishly asked as he looked on the tray placed with a pile of brownies on a plate, a pitcher of iced tea, and three tall fragile glasses.

“I was about to ask you if you can bring it to the room. Be careful not to trip on your way!” The young male bobbed his head and picked up the tray with his two hands.

“Will do! And thank you for the snacks again!” And then off he goes, his slippers slapping against the tiled floor to make his way back to the shared room.

Amos watched his form disappear before her eyes flicked to the doorframe. A small smile appeared on her lips and crossed her arms over her chest.

“You can come out now, dear.” She said. A good minute of silence was only present in the kitchen before a tall man stepped out of the darkness, sighing heavily as he threw her a look of disappointment.

“Did that little rascal really have to use me in his riddles?” He groaned before taking a look over the leftover pieces of brownies.

“What? It’s kind of amusing and smart to do it. I’ll give him kudos for that.” Amos opened her lips and popped in small bits of the dessert in her mouth to take a taste of it.

“Hmph,” Decarabian huffed as he poured a drink to the glass.

“And let me guess that Himmel also asked you about [Name]’s birthday?” He almost spat out his drink when his wife mentioned the name of your friend. It would be a waste if he did that and he doesn’t like to cause a mess in this area already.

“I told you he’s a good kid. You just have to get rid of that frown of yours and your authoritative aura. Himmel’s always doing his best and now he even had the courage to approach and ask you.”

Decarabian could only stand still and remain silent as he sipped his drink.

—

ive written a shared room scenario before and this is set on college au. Do take note this has nsfw content in it

[banchieplaysminecraft]

How Aaron could’ve been a good character and why he wasn’t

I’ve been annoyed at this for a good long while and i’ve finally gotten around to talk about it so here we gooo

please note that, though i watched all of mcd s2 while it was coming out, i haven’t rewatched it all the way through (i’m a little less than halfway through s2) so bear with me

now, we can all agree that we didn’t really have a lot of beef with aaron in s1. was it annoying that aph was keeping secrets?  yes. did we actively enjoy the fact that this random edgelord showed up with all of this convenient information? sure. but did we actively dislike him? i don’t think so

im sure that some people did, but it was a far cry from the universal grudge that we as a fandom hold. the only question is, what changed?

the answer is pretty simple: he got annoying

there is no greater sin that a content creator can commit than to make a character tedious--especially a character that the fans are meant to root for. i once heard someone say that there is no such thing as a good character and a bad character, there are only interesting characters or boring characters

now, before the s1 finale, aaron wasn’t annoying because he made sense. we didn’t know a lot about his backstory, but we knew just enough to not have a lot of questions while also understanding why he as a character worked. he spied on zane, he got information, and he got away with it because, according to every government in existence, he was dead. he was doing it to avenge his village, which seemed to be his reason for doing most things.

 that was basically it, because that was all that we needed. he didn’t answer personal questions because that could reveal his identity, and he didn’t hang around phoenix drop proper because he knew that there was a spy in the village who might figure him out. all in all, he was a very logical character

what changed? his motivation

after the gang sealed zane in the irene dimension, may i ask WHAt the fuck was his reason for staying??? nothing! what was his reason for keeping his identity a secret? pretty much nothing! it made no sense!!

according to all of his characterization as a *~lone wolf~*, it would make the most sense for him to strike out on his own and do whatever the fuck, maybe occasionally popping back in to warn the main characters of some impending doom, maybe hold a giant fuckass sword to someone’s throat again, maybe find some other tyrant to destroy.

but he didn’t, and it made no sense

this was made exponentially worse because he was an ~edgy dark angsty boy with a sad past and a dead wife~ and because he seemed to be able to do no wrong. he rarely, if ever, communicated with the rest of the group, and he often just went out on his own--and yet, most people seemed to trust him unconditionally?? he always seems to show up at the right place and the right time with little to no explanation as to how, and no one ever questions it. sure, laurance and dante had some doubts and even spoke up once or twice, but laurance’s grievances are mostly due to being in love with aph, and literally no one else ever asked anything, despite not even knowing his fucking name

and, of course, everyone thinks that he’s super hot and aphmau falls in love with him and then he dies a tragic death in a moment of self-sacrifice that really wasn’t all that heroic because he left his wife and child behind

i mean, come on

THAT BEING SAID he had soooo muuch potentiaalllllll

LET ME EXPLAIN

during s1, his role in the story was the spy--and he was very good at it, because everyone thought that he was dead!! how are you gonna blame a dead man for anything without sounding crazy! no one knew his name or his face or anything--and they should’ve kept it that way because, surprise!! theyre still at war in s2. sure, it’s a different war, but it’s still! a fucking! war! and like 70% of war is ESPIONAGE and INFORMATION and STRATEGY, havent you ever heard the phrase KNOWING IS HALF THE BATTLE??? they literally had possibly the best spy that they knew of and instead of actually putting his skills to work he just dramatically leans on trees and sits in the shadows??? WHAT

he clearly had ways to get into high places, since he had somehow gotten his hands on the amulet in s1, and he used to be a lord so he would’ve known things about POLITICS and KINGDOM STUFF--i mean, we all know that aphmau knows jack shit about this world and how it works.

what SHOULDVE HAPPENED IS:

after they all get back to the overworld, he leaves the party. idc if it’s immediately after or if he waits a few days, but he leaves regardless. every once in awhile, we hear of him popping up in various places, and we run into him a few times. he informs the gang of what he’s heard, maybe tags along on some missions. he still shows up in random places the way that he does in canon, but since he’s not based it phoenix drop i think that it makes a bit more sense, and he occasionally pops back into phoenix drop whenever he’s in the area or needs time to rest and recharge, and stays an informant for aphmau & her crew. as things pick up, he slowly becomes a more commonly-seen member of aphmau’s inner circle. 

throughout this whole period, he finally starts to come to terms with the death of his wife & their village, and he slowly starts to share more with the group--nothing big, just details here and there--and he actually starts to develop *gasp* a personality. i’d like to imagine that he gets closer with laurance, dante, and katelyn instead of only ever talking to aphmau. i don’t think that he’s ever super talkative, but he starts to be a little less quiet & closed off. 

at this point, he’s either told them his name or (preferred) they all have a list of nicknames that they cycle through to address him. sooner or later he starts to help with the building of phoenix drop and the alliance, taking on duties that are more akin to his old role as lord. he either phases the espionage out of his schedule or ghostwrites all of the legislation, and falls more easily into his new roles

i don’t really care if he ever ends up with aphmau or not, but if he does then that also happens at some point or another, but i, at least, would no longer be angry at that outcome

However, this whole plot would require everyone in the story to take literally all of their roles in this literal government that they’re building seriously, and we all know that that’s never going to happen, but i can dream /s

Tl;dr, if aaron actually used his strengths and skills to be a useful member of this alliance instead of randomly showin up and dramatically hitting things with his giant fuckoff sword, he’d be so much more tolerable

[amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines]

Reggie//everyone loves a cliche

Request: Can I request a reader/Reggie with sort of the cliche footballer/cheerleader stereotype sort of fluff plot wise

hey! i hope this is what you wanted! i had a lot of fun writing this!

- At first, you and Reggie don’t like each other 

- Which is kind of a cliche in itself 

- He’s too arrogant 

- You’re to ‘preppy’

- Whatever the hell thats supposed to mean

- But its not like you hate each other

- You never go out of your way to make the others lives miserable 

- Just if there’s a mention of one of you, the other will roll their eyes 

- Any other time, you just try to avoid each other.

- But that becomes a bit more difficult when your best friends start dating

- Veronica and Archie become a thing 

- Meaning there is literally no escape from each other 

- Queue an endless amount of third and fourth wheeling

- ‘you’re the fourth wheel’ 

- ‘isn’t that better than third?’ 

- ‘no because you’re last’ 

- ^Just a snippet of the arguments you would have while Veronica and Archie shove their tongues down each others throats 

- So now you’re forced together regularly

- And because you usually have to spend time at Pop’s, you either have to sit next to or opposite each other. 

- God help anybody who thinks you’re a couple

- Or even just friends tbh

- ‘you think we’re dating?’

- ‘you think i would go anywhere near him?!’ 

- ‘exactl-hey! if anyone is rejecting anyone. its me rejecting you.’

- ‘you keep telling yourself that.’ 

- ‘i just asked for your order...’

- But one day something changes

- Archie and Veronica are late 

- How? You don’t know because you left practice at the same time

- And she’d specifically told you during practice that you were all going to Pop’s straight after. 

- So now you and Reggie have to be alone for a while

- As soon as you walk into the diner and see Reggie sat alone, your smile vanishes

- You’d already had a rubbish day

- And now you have to drag yourself over to sit opposite him

- ‘hey pom-poms. i thought cheerleaders were supposed to be happy all the time.’ 

- ‘i’m not in the mood reg. where’s veronica?’

- ‘probably wherever archie is.’

- ‘...’

- ‘whats up?’ 

- ‘do you actually care or do you just want something to gossip about in the locker room?’ 

- ‘do i look like cheryl blossom to you?’ 

- You’d crack a smile at that which would spark something unfamiliar in him

- ‘no...thank god’ 

- ‘i’ve heard a problem shared is a problem halved’ 

- ‘and where exactly did you hear that?’

- ‘its just something my mom used to say to me’ 

- ‘used to?’ 

- ‘we don’t really talk much anymore. but come on, tell me whats wrong.’ 

- ‘i’ve just had a bit of a crappy day. everything just got on top of me and then i ended it with a really rough practice.’ 

- ‘well, good news is that you’re crappy day is over, and you survived it. plus, i’ve seen you practice and you’re great.’ 

- ‘you’re just saying that.’ 

- ‘when do i ever just say things...especially nice things...and especially about you.’ 

- ‘true’

- ‘don’t tell cheryl, but i think you’re the best on that team.’

- Both of you would blush and look away, not really sure of what to say and praying for Archie and Veronica to turn up soon.

- A few minutes of some very awkward silence, they eventually turn up

- And both of you would be extremely thankful. 

- After that you start to look at him differently 

- And he starts to notice small things about you 

- Things shift between you ever so subtly

- Instead of rolling your eyes, they would light up at the mention of the other 

- And instead of avoiding each other, you found yourselves looking for the other 

- If one of you told a joke, you’d look at the other to see if they were laughing 

- And small looks would be shared between the two of you whenever Archie and Veronica were doing something gross

- Both of you would start to look forward to being the third and fourth wheel 

- Because now it doesn’t really feel like it anymore

- And slowly your friends start to notice the changes

- Subtle and not so subtle 

- Especially when you start hanging out with each other, without the need of anyone else being there 

- So now its just a matter of time 

- Which thankfully isn’t that long

- A month later...

- Veronica and Archie are late...yet again 

- But you don’t mind 

- Sometime you and Reggie go to Pop’s early so you can spend some time together before they turn up

- By the time Reggie gets there, you’ve already ordered his food and he feels his heart skip a beat because you actually remembered his favourite 

- ‘archie text me and apparently something has come up.’

- ‘i don’t want to know whats up.’ You’d reply with a scrunch of your nose.

- He’d chuckle softly and your mind would go blank for a few seconds 

- Because you made him do that! 

- You could happily hear that noise every single day for the rest of your life and never get sick of it

- Oh crap

- Do you like Reggie Mantle?

- Like more than a friend???

- Maybe even love him?!?!

- ‘y/n? are you okay?’

- ‘what? yeah...just thinking.’

- ‘remember, a problem shared is a problem halved’

- ‘i’m good, really.’ 

- But you’re really not good 

- Not at all

- You’ve fallen for Reggie Mantle

- Arrogant footballer

- But also so much more

- He’s got the kindest, purest soul ever

- He’ll do anything for his friends 

- And he’ll do anything to make you laugh

- Little do you know

- As you’re having your small freakout 

- Reggie is doing the exact same 

- He’s just realized how in love with you he actually is

- All it took was a crude joke and a scrunch of your nose 

- Now what does he do?

- He’s always so confident 

- Thats what made you dislike him in the first place

- But right now, he isn’t sure if he’s able to say hello

- So he blurts out the next best thing

- ‘goodbye’

- ‘what?’ 

- ‘i mean i love you’ 

- ‘what?!?’

- ‘what?’ 

- Now he’s standing up and trying to figure out the best escape route 

- ‘reg? where are you going?’ 

- ‘away. i don’t love you. i like you. i mean not that i couldn’t love you. i could definitely love you...very easily. maybe i do love you. can i kiss you? wait what?’ 

- ‘yes. you can kiss me.’ 

- That surprises both of you 

- But he doesn’t waste anymore time and leans over the table to kiss you 

- Its awkward because of the position he’s in and definitely a little embarrassing

- But its perfect 

- After a few dates you’d make it official 

- And then the real cliches would start

- Quickly you’d become the couple of the school

- Everybody knows who you are

- Probably because he gave you his letterman jacket after your first date and you haven’t taken it off since

- ‘it just looks better on you babe’ 

- Speaking of ‘babe’

- The nicknames...

- So many

- ‘babe’

- ‘baby’

- ‘sweetheart’

- ‘my love’ (which is a personal favourite)

- ‘darling’ (another favourite)

- And your nicknames for him where just as cute

- ‘reg’ (obvious, but he likes it because its the one you called him before you even liked each other)

- ‘mantle’ (for when you wanted to tease him)

- ‘love’

- ‘babe’

- ‘sunshine’ (his secret favourite. he pretended to hate it but you noticed the soft smile on his face whenever you said it)

- You definitely won prom king and queen 

- ‘you’re by far the prettiest queen this school has ever seen’

- Your Pop’s dates would become more and more frequent 

- Now its Veronica and Archie’s turn to share looks when you kiss

- He’d walk you to class every chance he got 

- And he’d always carry your books for you

- If you had a class together, he would always sit beside you

- And days were assignments were given and you could pick your partners were his favourite.

- When you didn’t have classes together he’d leave cheesy notes in your notebooks 

- Or even just in your locker 

- He’d always kiss you goodbye 

- He’d also pull you into empty classrooms/corridors to make out

- Even if you were going to be late to something

- Mainly Bulldog/Vixen practice 

- Much to your coaches annoyance

- Sorry Cheryl 

- If you were free while he was practicing, you’d watch him from the bleachers 

- And if he was free while you had practice, he’d definitely sneak in to watch 

- Again, sorry Cheryl 

- And at games you would always cheer the loudest 

- Sometimes you’d come up with your own cheers that were just about him 

- ...sorry Cheryl

- You were a constant distraction to the other

- Everybody would act so annoyed 

- But they secretly all thought it was cute 

- Because everyone loves a cliche 

- And this one was by far your favourite 

[inkweaver22-blr]

Three chapters in three days! I’m on fire! Welcome to the first of the intermediary filler/fluff chapters! There will be a few of these chapters in between each of the major plot-relevant ones to break up some of the seriousness of this fic. Can’t be torturing our boy the entire time now.

AO3 Link

<Previous | First | Next>

Scattered Cicadas - Chapter Three: The Brightest Sun

Tang takes some time to think about everyone's favorite delivery boy.

----------

Qí Xiǎotiān. MK. The Monkie Kid.

Tang watched as the younger man mopped the floor of the noodle shop with a spring in his step. He hummed the theme song to The Monkey King Animated Series as he worked, his bright smile never fading despite the menial labor.

Tang couldn’t help being in awe of the young man. He supposed that if their life were a tv show or book series, MK would no doubt have been the main character with how everything seemed to center around him. Becoming the Monkey King’s successor, fighting demons regularly, being the hero and protector of the city. Throughout it all MK remained upbeat and optimistic. A beacon of happiness and cheer.

Outwardly at least.

Tang felt a pain in his chest as he recalled the cycle where he first learned of MK’s insecurities. The fears of being abandoned by his friends. Anxieties over Monkey King deciding he chose the wrong successor. Absolute dread at not being strong enough to protect everyone.

It hurt the scholar’s heart that the poor kid had felt the need to shoulder the impossible weight of such terrible thoughts on his own. He had gone through his own bouts of such feelings very early on in the cycles and knew it wasn’t a good idea to keep such emotions bottled up.

So he did his best to encourage and reassure MK whenever he could. A pep talk here, some unconditional support and comfort there. Tang also got the others in on it as well, making sure they understood what the kid needed.

(Oh how he had yelled at Pigsy the cycle after learning of MK’s troubles for even daring to suggest that MK was replaceable with a robot.)

The humming soon turned to singing as MK continued cleaning.

Tang didn’t bother hiding the smile that came to his lips. MK was an incredible person in the scholar’s eyes. Yes, he had his own fears and issues, but who didn’t? It was when he confronted those feelings with the help of the people that cared for him that the scholar could see a glimpse of the Monkie Kid’s true potential.

Strength. Confidence. Self-reflection. Love.

With his worries conquered by the affection from his friends, MK seemed to radiate an inner light that was almost blinding. A bright and warming sun that lit up everything around him.

Tang mused that if MK was a sun, then it made sense that he had a collection of people that tended to gravitate around him.

MK’s background never seemed quite the same throughout the cycles, but they were consistent in leaving him without parents in one way or another. Pigsy had filled in as a father figure very easily. The chef’s silent forms of affection and steady presence had been the perfect remedy for a lonely and distrustful teen all those years ago.

The Monkey King also fit into the father role rather quickly once he began teaching MK. He was a bit more distant than Pigsy when it came to showing affection, but Tang still had to admit the old monkey did actually care about MK as if he was his own son.

(It had been a struggle to get him to admit it to the kid, like pulling blood from a stone, but Tang had been patient. The smile on MK’s face had been more than worth it.)

Mei was obviously like a sister to MK, sharing in his enthusiasm and love for life.

Sandy was the kind and doting uncle who always had some helpful advice and a cup of tea ready.

Tang wasn’t exactly sure where he fit in but liked to think of himself as a favorite tutor who told some good stories.

The scholar chuckled as MK began to dance around with the mop, having switched to sing some popular pop song.

It wasn’t just the five of them that tended to get caught up in MK’s shining personality. More often than not, their enemies were also ensnared by his light in various timelines.

Jin and Yin had their mischievous streaks toned down to simpler pranks and goofs whenever MK befriended them.

The Spider Queen had become a powerful ally and aunt to MK one memorable cycle.

Even Macaque would give up on his plans of revenge if he spent time with the kid outside of their twisted training sessions.

There was just something inherently likeable about MK. Some sort of effortless charm and caring he exuded that captured the hearts of those around him.

Tang was of the opinion that if a being spent an extended period of time around MK and still disliked him, then there had been no hope for them ever being a good person.

“Noodle boy!”

Tang smirked into his bowl. Speaking of spending an extended period of time around MK…

MK greeted Red Son enthusiastically, the demon’s reply much more sedate.

The scholar slowly ate his noodles as the unlikely pair conversed. Out of every enemy they faced, the son of the Demon Bull King and Princess Iron Fan was the most likely to be caught in MK’s light.

He supposed that made sense, as he spent more time than any of their enemies interacting with the kid through their fights.

They complimented each other as well. Both were always enthusiastic about whatever they did. MK let himself be pulled along by his heart and emotions while Red Son kept himself grounded with his more logical approaches.

Like himself and Pigsy, the exact relationship between the two seemed to be determined by a toss of a coin. Some of the time they were simply best friends. Other times they were kidnapping each other in the traditional demon equivalent of a marriage proposal.

He would never say it to their faces, but he found the pair cute together regardless of the exact relationship they had.

“I’ll be back later,” MK called out as Red Son pulled him from the shop. “Bye Dadsy! Bye Dad!”

Tang choked on his food.

He quickly placed his bowl down and stared wide-eyed at the closing door. He turned to the chef who had an equally surprised expression. Pigsy and him were the only other ones in the shop at the moment. So that must mean-

“Did he just call us…?” Tang let the question trail off, unsure of what he actually had heard and desperately hoping he wasn’t wrong.

“Dadsy and Dad? Yeah. Yeah he did,” Pigsy answered as a wide grin grew on his face.

Oh. So he had heard correctly.

Love, strong and warm and bright, welled up inside of Tang. His smile was equally as big as the chef’s and he had to remove his glasses to wipe away a few tears.

MK had the brightest personality Tang had ever known. One he was in awe of.

He would do his absolute best to be a good father for MK if that’s what he wanted.

Isn’t that what all the best dads did for their sons?

----------

D'awww! Wasn’t that just so sweet? Next chapter won’t be as fluffy but I would still consider it a bit of filler. Until then!

[cupidcreates]

yay! I’m gonna rapid fire send a few short ones but there’s no rush in getting them all answered! okay so you’ve mentioned that suki’s love language is touch, but what about everyone else? -😌✨

Ooooh! Good ask! I’m assuming you want the L.Y.E cast but I’ll add a few extra characters into the mix. I’ll do just the male characters for this post and do a female list at another time if y’all want it!

I also separated giving/receiving love languages because a few characters I feel would give love different to how they would like to receive it.

(Also this took SO LONG to finish I’m sorry for making you wait!)

Love Languages

💥Katsuki Bakugou💥

Gives in Touch / Receives in Touch

Receiving: As I’ve said before, Bakugou’s love language is touch, and as I’ve also said he’s super uncomfortable with people touching him casually because he just expects physical contact to hurt in some way or another. So once he does get a SO it’ll take a while for him to open up to any sort of physical affection, especially in public. At the start of the relationship the best they’ll get is holding hands, and even that is more a possessive gesture than anything else, it’s meant to signal to anyone passing by that this person is his and his alone. 

However, after a bit of time Bakugou will open up to his SO and allow himself to accept the affection they give. It’ll start with the hand holding, progress into accepting hugs without complaint, to even letting his SO play with his hair while he lays in their lap and tells them about his day. It’ll eventually become apparent that Katsuki loves to be touched, craves it even, though he’d never admit to this outright. It’ll take a while to get there but gain his trust and he’ll accept any sort of physical affection his SO has for him.

He’ll still never tolerate anything further than a chaste peck on the cheek in public though. He loves the gesture don’t get him wrong but Pro-Hero Ground Zero (Bars Dude ✌🏽) does have a reputation to uphold you know.

Giving: Katsuki loves to be touched sure but he also loves to touch. Similarly it’ll take time for him to get comfortable with giving physical affection but once there he can’t help but wrap himself around his SO nearly all the time. 

If he’s out with them he’s got an arm around their shoulders or their waist. 

If he’s home with them and they’re doing something he’s right there next to them, bumping shoulders so frequently he might as well just press himself to his SO and stay there. Or he’s behind them, arms wrapped around their waist and head on their shoulder watching whatever they’re doing.

If they’re laying down or relaxing in anyway he’s laying under them, next to them, on top of them, doesn’t matter to him as long as he’s there with them. Katsuki has never been good at expressing his feelings verbally, so he Koala’s himself to their form and just hopes all his emotions can transfer through his body and into theirs and they can understand how much he loves them. 

🥦Izuku Midoriya🥦

Gives in Gifts & Words of Affirmation / Receives in Words of Affirmation

Receiving: Listen, after a childhood full of being looked down on a belittled for being Quirkless, Deku has developed something of a mental blockage about his own self worth. The fact that the most common way for people to refer to Deku is as “The Plain One” doesn’t help his inferiority complex. Even after years of having One for All he still has lingering doubts about his capabilities and desirability.

So when his SO tells him something they like about him, even if it’s something as simple as “I like your outfit today” he is over the moon about it and won’t stop thinking about it for the rest of the day. 

He’s more than a little embarrassed about it, he thinks it makes him narcissistic and shallow in a way, but he simply can’t get enough of the praise his SO gives him (maybe or maybe not has a praise kink like who knows ya know). 

It gives him a rush to hear it, to know that he means something to someone, to know he’s appreciated, loved, and desired by at least one person. A simple “I love you” is all he needs to make his day, any sort of affirmation is the highlight of his week and he craves it like a starving man craves food.

Giving: Izuku loves to compliment his SO, but he also tends to assume that they, unlike him, already know their value. He doesn’t think his words hold nearly as much weight to his SO as their words do for him. So while he’ll definitely lay on the verbal affection pretty thick he’ll also supplement it by going out of his way to never let a week pass without getting his SO a gift.

It’s usually something small, just something to let them know he was thinking about them throughout his day. Since Izuku never let his fanboy behavior of obsessively taking notes go, he definitely knows his SO’s favorite everything ever so they can expect to frequently receive their favorite candy, flowers, etc, on a regular basis.

❤🤍Shoto Todoroki🤍❤

Gives in Gifts & Quality Time / Receives in Gifts

Receiving: Now Gifts as a love language often get a bad rap for being the choice of the rich and materialistic; it’s seen as the shallowest of the love languages by a non-insignificant number of people. Shoto, however, is not interested in expensive and highly-sought after gifts like cutting-edge tech, lavish jewelry, or any other similar staples of wealth. He’s too used to his father getting him things like this to try and win his affection and display the affluence of the Todoroki family. No, Shoto’s not interested in that, Shoto loves gifts that indicate the giver was thinking about him.

What I mean by this is that if someone were to give Shoto a nice watch as a gift he’d say thank you and would definitely wear it but wouldn’t give it a second thought; but if someone where to give him something they hand crafted, like a painting, a ceramic vase, or hell even one of those shitty friendship bracelets everyone who went to bible camp had to make, Shoto would cherish it like it was his own child. He’d be up thinking about it for weeks, completely overwhelmed by the genuine love behind the gesture.

If his SO is not the creative type and isn’t prone to making things, they can still achieve this same affect by just getting him something he likes. Pop in to his agency with some cold Soba or his favorite candy? He’d be flustered to the point of needing to take his lunch break early just to calm down. To Shoto, the ultimate display of love is taking time out of one’s day to make him something or bring him something he enjoys.

Giving: As much as Shoto dislikes the giving of expensive gifts as a way of showing love, it’s really one of the only ways he knows how to express it. Gifts were they only way he was shown affection as a child, so gifts are the only language his brain really understands. He’ll get his SO anything they could possibly want, anything they even vaguely express the desire for they’ll have in a heartbeat. 

His SO was talking about a cute outfit they saw the other day that was slightly out of their price range? Consider it theirs. Were they thinking about replacing their old laptop? He’d get them a new one shipped to their address in less than a week. Even if they just need their tires replaced Shoto wouldn’t hesitate to get it taken care of.

Naturally, this can be incredibly overwhelming and discomforting, especially if his SO isn’t wealthy to begin with. So when it becomes apparent that his SO is uncomfortable with this indulgence his backup way to show affection is to spend time with his SO. Shoto is an excellent listener, and there’s nothing he loves more than to listen to his SO tell him about their day.

Shoto is attached by the hip to his SO most days; when he’s not at work he’s with them, doing his best to fill their average days and menial tasks with fond memories together. He turns a regular night at home into a cluster of warm and loving moments by spending as much time with his SO as possible. He simply cannot fathom ever wanting to be apart from them.

💜Hitoshi Shinsou💜

Gives in Acts of Service / Receives in Words of Affirmation

Receiving: Hitoshi Shinsou has a lot of self-doubt, even after years of training and proving to himself and others that yes he can and will become a Pro-Hero, he still cannot overcome the lingering sense of uncertainty about himself and his abilities. Imposter syndrome who? Hitoshi’s never met her and yet she lingers on his shoulders and weighs him down even after all these years.

So when Hitoshi does finally open up and start dating someone, he’s not entirely sure how to handle being frequently told that he’s loved. Being complimented on his appearance sure, he thinks he’s cute enough and dresses well; but being told something like “You did great on your last mission! You really handled the situation so well” or “Your cooking is excellent, you always know exactly what I like!” will send him into a mini identity crisis. 

He never really thought he did anything exceptionally well, and yet here is this person telling him he’s doing everything exceptionally well? It doesn’t make sense to him but that doesn’t mean he won’t eat the praise up and revel in every kind word.

Giving: Hitoshi has spent so much time focused on his Hero Career, (working twice as hard for half the recognition someone with a flashier quirk would get, yes I’m still bitter) that he’s spent very little time getting to know other people. Mr. “I’m not here to make friends” has suffered in Human Interaction department because of this, getting close to other people is not his strong suit.

So once he does get an SO he’s not entirely sure how to let them know he loves them? Sure he can tell them but actions speak louder than words right? So he takes to doing things for them whenever he gets the chance. If they work at the same agency he’ll handle some of their paperwork for them. If they live together he’ll be sure to keep up on the laundry and dishes, even if he’s the one doing them most of the time. He doesn’t mind taking responsibility for the chores, it’s how he shows his love.

Hitoshi might not have the best intuition when it comes to other people but one thing he does know is that everyone likes to have their work load lightened, even if it’s only a little bit. So any chance he’s got to do that for his SO he’ll take it in a heartbeat.

⚡Denki Kaminari⚡

Gives in All of them / Receives in All of them (lmao)

Receiving: There’s no one more familiar with rejection on this list than Denki Kaminari. Much like Mirio he’s a natural flirt, but unlike Mirio he lacks the overwhelming brightness and charm that lights up the room the second he walks in. Because of this Denki has become rather close with the concept of being curved.

Denki doesn’t let it get him down; he’s got a very easy going personality, so it’s not like he’ll never find someone! It’s only a matter of time before he comes across someone who likes him for him, right?

That was easy to believe back at UA, but he’s an adult now with a flourishing career as a Pro-Hero and yet still can’t seem to find someone. The last thing he wants is for this to make him bitter and reserved, but it becomes increasingly difficult to deny that it hurts. Is there something wrong with him? He can’t help but feel like he’s just unpalatable to the majority of the population.

So when Denki does manage to find an SO he’s over the moon about it. He’s so desperate for any type of affection that he’s open to any kind of love his SO can give him. Is their language gifts or words of affirmation? He’ll cherish every present and kind word they can give him. Is their language Quality Time or Acts of Service? They can expect him to never leave their side, or to shower them with praise and thanks, never letting them forget how much he appreciates them and all they do for him. Is their love language touch? They’ll have full access to his body 24/7, anytime, any day, just say the word. Denki just wants to be loved so badly.

Giving: Just as Denki is open to receiving any kind of love, he’s also open to providing any kind of love. If his SO wants gifts he’ll go bankrupt just to shower them in any material possession they want. If they want his time he’ll give it to them, his touch his hands will never leave them. If they want his praise he’ll be sure to never shut up about them and their accomplishments, if they like acts of service than call him Nicki Minaj because yes he’ll do the cooking, yes he’ll do the cleaning. 

Anything his SO wants he’ll do it for them, he’d let them walk on his face as they come in the door if they wanted to. He can’t stand the idea of his SO leaving him, he’d die before letting go of the love he has with them. He’s convinced that if they leave him he’ll never find it again, at the end of the day he might just be right.

💎Eijirou Kirishima💎

Gives in Words of Affirmation / Receives in Words of Affirmation

Receiving: Eijirou Kirishima is not full of himself, not in the slightest, but that doesn’t stop him from getting butterflies every time someone compliments him (especially on his quirk or pro-hero work). He knows he’s not as flashy as others in his field, but he’s making due with what he has. If anything, he’d just like to have his hard work recognized every now and again.

Eijirou dislikes that his love language is words of affirmation, but he can’t deny the fuzzy feelings he gets when his SO praises him, or compliments him, or even just tells him they love him. Much like Denki, Eijirou just needs to be loved to feel fulfilled, and he’s not one to question the motives of the people he cares about. So just telling him how appreciated and loved he is will make him believe it. Just being the world to one person is enough for him.

Giving: Likewise, Kirishima will give back all his lover gives him tenfold. He knows there’s not enough kindness in the world so any chance he gets to tell his SO how wonderful they are and how much he appreciates them he’ll take it. Kirishima loves to see his lovers face light up when they receive a compliment from him, even if its something small like how nice they look that day. It’s like an addiction, he can’t get enough of the pure unadulterated joy.

🥢Tamaki Amajiki🥢

Gives in Words of Affirmation / Receives in Quality Time

Receiving: Tamaki Amajiki is an introvert, that much is readily apparent after meeting him for the first time. He wouldn’t call himself a loner per say, he just prefers solitude to spending time in big social groups. He’s got a very small social battery, it gets depleted very quickly and takes a while to re-charge.

So when Tamaki’s SO offers to spend some time with him and a day he had scheduled to be alone he’s every so slightly disgruntled about it. He loves his SO with all his being but he really does need the time alone.

Of course he can’t turn them down though, so he just makes peace with the fact that he’ll have to re-work his brain to get into the “human interaction” mode again for a while longer that day.

That is, until it becomes apparent that actually he loves to be alone with his SO. Anything he had planned for that day is made infinitely better with their presence. Anything from reading, to shopping, to just cleaning house, he’s not sure how they do it but the tasks just somehow become exponentially more palatable and enjoyable with his SO around.

Tamaki quickly starts to take little blocks out of his day just to spend with his SO, even if it’s just something small like getting a coffee together and chatting for twenty minutes outside the café. Life is just better with his SO around, easier with them around, and he every time he has to leave he’s counting the minutes till he can come back and see them again.

Giving: Tamaki has never been good with words, but that doesn’t stop him from needing to shower his SO in praise and love. He just can’t hold back whenever he sees them, he has to pay them a compliment on something, even if it’s just what scarf they chose to wear that day. He just needs them to know that he sees them, sees the effort they put in every day, and admires their dedication and work ethic.

Tamaki hates that his stutter gets in the way of this, but another thing he loves about his SO is that they never seem to mind. They don’t get irritated with him about it, nor do they tell him to just spit it out. It really helps his anxiety and nervousness and he can’t help but bring it up every time they meet as well. He knows he sounds like a broken record, but it kills him inside to think of his SO going even one day without knowing how wonderful and special they are to him.

☀Mirio Togata☀

Gives in Quality Time & Touch / Receives in Quality Time

Receiving: Much unlike his best friend Tamaki, Mirio is an extrovert through and through. He loves spending time with people and can’t get enough of being around them. He’s invigorated by company and is always open to making new friends. 

That being said he also makes it a point to make time for the most important people in his life, and the best way to let him know that he’s cared for is to return the gesture. Nothing excites Mirio more than getting a text or a call from a loved one inviting him out to spend time with them. He’s so ecstatic that someone would not only be thinking of him, but actually want to take time out of their day to see him. Just wanting to be around him is the quickest way to his heart.

Giving: Mirio loves spending Quality Time with his SO, not a week goes by that he doesn’t plan a date with them. He pulls out all the stops as well, romantic picnics atop a hill, stargazing on the roof, catching a movie, or even just going to the beach for an afternoon. Mirio will never cheapen out on a date, he wants the time with his SO to be memorable so he’ll put his heart and soul into treating his SO right while out with them.

Mirio has also gained the reputation of a flirt, and for good reason. He’s incredibly charismatic and charming, the only thing smoother than his words and cheesy one-liners is his hands. He keeps them soft and moisturized so he can run them over his SO’s body with little to no resistance.

Mirio loves capital L LOVES touching his SO. Not a day goes by that he doesn’t have his hands on them if he can help it. He wants his SO to feel cared for, appreciated, and above all loved to the highest degree, and if that means he gets to grope them for hours on end to prove that then so be it. If his extended deep tissue massage ends up getting more physical than he had first intended it to be than no one will hear him complaining about it. It definitely wasn’t his plan in the first place...

🦅Keigo Takami🦅

Gives in Touch & Gifts / Receives in Touch

Receiving: Keigo’s had a hard life, which is to be expected of a man taken in by the Hero Commission at such a young age and essentially turned into a pawn. He’s not used to letting people get close to him, for both their safety as well as his own.

It’s highly unlikely that he’d end up with and SO, but Keigo’s never been good at telling himself no, so should he find someone he really wants to pursue he’ll do it, consequences be damned. 

Keigo’s never had a normal romantic relationship with someone, but it doesn’t take long for him to find out that his favorite part of it is being physically intimate with his SO. He loves having their hands all over him, it sets his skin alight and electrifies him in a way he’s never felt before.

Touching doesn’t have to just be sexual either, he can spend just as long cuddling with them, wrapping them in his arms and dwarfing them as he covers them with his wings.

Speaking of his wings, he absolutely loves when his SO touches them. He leaves a feather or two with them every day, just so he can always be touching them in one way or another. He loves to be on patrol and feel them gently stroking it, running their fingertips over it or brushing it across their skin. He nearly plummeted out of the air the first time he felt them kiss it. Keigo would rather pluck each and every feather out of his back one by one than not be able to touch his SO again, he couldn’t even bear the thought of losing their physical affection.

Giving: Keigo isn’t one to take without giving back, so touch for touch Keigo will match his partners affections. He’s definitely into body worship and can spend hours on end just running his hands over their body, mapping every inch of them under his palms. His favorite pass-time is to sit and massage his partners back and shoulders while they tell him about their day. Any excuse to have his hands on his SO he’ll take it.

Keigo sometimes doesn’t feel like that’s good enough though, he feels like when he offers touch as a form of love he’s simply offering himself to his SO. That just won’t do for Keigo, that’s just not enough in his mind. To him it’s pompous to assume that he’d be enough for anyone at all, no matter how much is SO might tell him differently.

So to supplement this he’ll shower his SO in gifts, often of the more expensive variety. What’s the point of being a famous and wealthy pro hero if he can’t spoil the people he loves. He definitely has some bird like tendencies as well so his SO can expect to get a lot of random gifts with “It was shiny and I thought you’d like it” as they explanation behind it.

🔥Touya Todoroki🔥

Gives in Acts of Service & Touch / Receives in Acts of Service

Receiving: Listen, Touya is used to people only doing things for him out of hear or because they need something from him in return. He ran away from home and was presumed dead from a pretty young age, so he’s had alot of time to figure out that if he wants something done he’s either doing it himself or threatening someone to do it for him. People don’t do things for Touya because they like Touya, they do it because they fear Dabi.

So when he, against his very nature, decides to settle into a relationship with someone he’s not entirely sure how affection is displayed between partners. So he’s reasonably skeptical when his SO starts to just do random nice things for him, like cleaning up a mess he’d left for later or bringing him dinner when they knew he missed lunch and breakfast.

He just can’t fathom why his SO would do something like this on a whim, and just decides to bring up that if they needed him to do something for them, they didn’t have to butter him up like everyone else did. Needless to say he was surprised  when they told him they just do these things for him because they love him.

Well he’s not entirely sure about that but he’s never been one to look a gift horse in the mouth now has he? Since they last person to genuinely give a shit about him was his mother Rei and brother Natsuo he’s not about to let someone who says they love him go. Especially not if they continue to do nice things for him.

Giving: Touya Todoroki would never deny being an absolute asshole, he just doesn’t give a shit about anyone or anything most of the time. That being said, he’s not one to be in debt to anyone either. If his SO is performing acts of service for him then dammit he’s going to do the same. 

He can’t help with things like house work (not that he would if he could) but he can definitely do things a little more underhanded than what his SO is comfortable with. Should his SO need something they can’t afford they can consider it theirs as long as they don’t ask where it came from. If they’re having trouble with someone at work, be it a manager or just a co-worker, they needn’t worry about it for long. Again, just don’t ask where that person might have gone off to...

Another thing about Touya is that he despises being touched, absolutely hates having anyone's hands on him for almost any reason. If you’re not fucking then don’t touch him without expecting fiery repercussions. 

That being said, Touya also knows (or at least he assumes?) that most healthy couples enjoy touching one another, even when they’re not fucking. So he’ll suck it up for his SO and let them cuddle into him on a cold night, but he’ll make it a point to bitch about it the entire time.

🎮Tomura Shigaraki🎮

Gives in Quality Time and Acts of Service / Receives in Touch

Receiving: For very obvious reasons Tomura Shigaraki does not touch people, not unless he intends to harm them of course. His biggest fear is hurting someone he cares about simply because he couldn’t keep his hands to himself.

Fortunately for him he rarely lets anyone get close enough for this to be a persistent problem for him, occupational hazard of being a villain you know; but should he manage to find himself an SO he’ll quickly be overwhelmed by the need to touch them in some way or another. Even if it’s just letting them sit in his lap for a minute, he desperately needs to be in contact with this person who (against their better judgement, in his own opinion) has seen past his flaws and enjoys being around him.

A loophole is quickly found though, he can’t touch his SO, but his SO can certainly touch him. He absolutely loves it when they do it as well, any sort of physical affection he eats up with a rabid fervor. It can be something as simple as brushing their knuckles across the back of his neck as they pass behind him that’ll make him go absolutely feral. Their touch is like a drug and Tomura is hooked.

Giving: While Tomura would love to express his affection with touch he’s really just not able to do so without getting sick with anxiety. So instead he makes sure to spend as much time around his SO as possible. Being a villain gives him quite a lot of down time, these evil plots don’t just appear out of thin air! So while he is planning his next move he goes out of his way to include his SO, or at least make sure he’s near them while doing so. 

Having his SO around near constantly not only ensures that they’re safe but also helps to make the time he has to spend around the rest of the LOV more bearable. His SO really is the only person he can tolerate for an extended period of time.

That being said, should his SO need help with anything Tomura will gladly oblige. He’s not one to help with dishes or cleanup, but say his SO needs someone to disappear quickly? He’s got no issue getting his hands dirty and reducing said person to dust. Tomura would dust the entire world if it meant his SO would be happy.

[papergirllife]

The Boy Down The Hall

gif credits to owner.

RoommateAU (roommate to lovers)

warnings: explicit sex, unprotected sex, cream pie.

requested.

When you first moved out of home to college, you had no idea where you were going to live as most students either lived in the dorms or had already rented a place nearby.

As you walked around the housing area with your two large luggage bags, someone shouted at you at their porch.

“You look lost! Need a room?!”

That was a year ago, Mark Lee and his friend Jeno were the best roommates you could ask for. Although Jeno did bring back girls from the frat parties he goes to, there will always be Mark who would huddle up in the living room, binge watching netflix at full volume to drown out the noises from Jeno’s room.

The boys held a special place in your heart, you’ve watched Mark go through a break up with his highschool girlfriend, Jeno when he injured his foot when he accidentally dropped one of his dumbbells on it when he was drunk.

You had always regarded them as friends, you never dared to stray across that line, even when your thoughts had wandered to unspoken places in your heart. Jeno was always a flirt, throwing pick up lines here and there, but you knew he meant nothing of it. Yet he wasn’t the one that was occupying your thoughts at 3am.

It was always Mark. All the times when the both of you cuddled on the couch watching TV had an effect on you, was it even considered cuddling? Just like this moment right now, the both of you are having another Harry Potter rerun.

Mark always found the movies interesting even after watching it for so many times, you would’ve too, if your heart didn’t find Mark’s face to be mesmerizing. Although he’s not what girls typically find attractive in campus, you found his quirky and wholesome reactions to everything he sees to be beautiful.

The way he buries his head down onto his hands whenever you drag him to a rollercoaster ride, the way he looks so serious when he’s strumming on his guitar after a shower. These little things he does, was strumming your heartstrings just like his fingers on the guitar.

Leaning onto his shoulder, you snuggled closer into him, trying to focus on the movie after failing more times than you could count. You could feel his muscles underneath his thin shirt, and the way his aftershave smelled, making your head dizzy, and your cheeks heating up.

“Why are you squirming around?”

“What?”

When you looked up from his shoulder, his face was only inches away from yours.

“Why is your face so red? Are you having a fever?”

Bless Mark and his clueless heart for giving you an excuse to escape.

“Yeah, I don’t think I’m feeling too well. I’ll head to bed first. Night.”

“Wait, Y/N! “

You left his warm embrace, to the disliking of your body, and ran to your room, slamming the door shut. Your chest heaved up and down, breathing in gulps of air to try to slow your heartbeat down.

That night, you went to bed with your thoughts swimming in your head as you toss and turn in bed, trying to get some sleep that you know would never come.

That incident that happened in the living room has passed a week now, you still have a crush on him, but your emotions were no longer out of control, as long as you distanced yourself from him.

Mark could sense your distancing towards him, but he didn’t know what he did wrong to make you this way. Instead of watching movies with him whenever Jeno had his flings around, you opted to head down to the cafe nearby, even by the means of walking in the cold.

On this particular Friday night, as you were going to huddle up in your room, reading the new book you’ve gotten, Jeno pops his head in.

“We’re going to a party.”

You looked at him quizzically, as if he was speaking a foreign language.

“No we’re not.”

“Yes, you are. Stop being a hermit in your room and meet new people.”

“I have nothing to wear, Jeno. I’ll be a laughing stock at your frat parties.”

Jeno dumped a bag on your bed.

“That’s yours. Get changed.”

You looked into the bag and found a semi low v cut navy blue dress with small little stars all over it.

“You’re crazy.”

“Y/N, you act like a hermit, but you don’t look like one, don’t act like you don’t go to the gym everyday after school. “

“ That’s from my friend’s sugar daddy, of course I’ll utilise it to the fullest.”

“I can’t believe the people working there don’t notice scammers on their threadmills.”

“Shut up, Lee Jeno. Not everyone’s loaded like you.”

“At least I’m nice? Just go, okay? as a favour to all the food I bought you?”

“Fine. Get out, I’ll get changed.”

“I knew you wouldn’t say no to a hottie like me.”

You pushed him out of the room and shut the door on him.

When you finished changing and applying the bare minimum make up, you were out of the door.

You stopped in your tracks when you see someone waiting for you outside your room, it was Mark, but not the Mark you’ve known. Standing in front of you was a brand new Mark. His hair was styled to show his forehead, he was wearing a black silk button up and dark washed jeans with his usual sneakers.

“Mark?”

He looked up, and you swear your heart did a little skip. You stepped a little closer to him, his eyes trained on you. You could smell the scent of his cologne, making you addicted to the musky scent.

“You look great, Y/N. Really great.”

“You look good too.”

“For real?”

“Yeah. I’ve never seen you all dressed up before.”

“Jeno, made me. I see he managed to persuade you too.”

“Yeah, he bribed me with food.”

He let out a small chuckle, a hand behind your back, guiding you out to the living area. His sweet gestures making you crave for more.

“Finally. Took you two forever.”

When you arrived at the party, the scene was wild. Or to you it was.

Jeno guided the both of you to get drinks. Just as you were sipping on your first drink, Jeno pulled Mark away to meet some girl.

You stood there on your own, a bitter taste in your mouth, and it definitely wasn’t from the alcohol in your cup. You never had the guts to express your feelings to Mark, even though your eyes always had a sense of longing in them whenever you were with him, he was just too oblivious.

You chugged your cup, refilling it once more, hoping that it will wash away your bitter longing towards your roommate.

As you were on your tenth? Or eight? You don’t remember. Someone walked up to you.

“What’s a pretty girl like you being here all alone?”

It was Sehun, the famous playboy in his senior year that made a reputation of himself  by sleeping with girls and leaving them heartbroken in the morning.

You looked at him, he was handsome, but you have enough problems in a lifetime.

“My boyfriend’s in the toilet.”

“I’ve observed you for a while now, doll. I don’t see anyone coming back for you. Let me show you how much appreciation I could show you.”

Sehun was tugging at your arm, dragging you towards somewhere you didn’t know.

“Stop. Sehun, stop!”

The alcohol in your system was stopping you from fighting back his advances, your mind foggy.

Just as he was about to lead you into a room, someone stopped him.

“Get away from her!”

Someone pushed Sehun away from you, but that person didn’t notice Sehun holding onto you, making you fall to the ground, your intoxicated state a blame for your lack of balance.

“Shit! Y/N!”

“Mark?”

Mark picked you up from the ground as Sehun scowled at the both of you.

“Pathetic.”

He said as he walked away.

“Y/N, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay.”

But as you tried to take a step forward, your left foot had a mild ache.

“I’ll carry you.”

“No, Mark. It’s fine.”

Ignoring your protests, Mark carried you, bridal style.

Mark was going to carry you down the stairs, but he bumped into Donghyuck, a gaming friend of his.

“Hyuck, can I borrow your room for a while? My friend injured her leg.”

“Injured her leg? Sure,sure.”

Donghyuck was quirking his eyebrows, suggesting some other activity. You could feel your face heating up from the suggestions Donghyuck was making. You were thankful for the dim lighting in this area.

“I’m serious, Hyuck.”

“Okay, whatever you say, first aid kit’s in the bathroom behind the mirror. And if you ever change your mind, please do it in the bathtub and wash it off after. Not my bed.” 

Donghyuck said as he walked away.

“Sometimes I question the friends I make.”

Mark mumbled as he walked towards the direction of Donghyuck’s room.

Mark pushed open the door with his back and placed you onto the bed gently. He closed the door and went into the bathroom, coming back with the first aid kit in his hand.

Mark knelt down and took off your left shoe to sprayed something on your leg, he wrapped some bandages for safe measure.

After he finished, Mark took your hands into his, his big starry eyes looking into yours. You were always a sucker for his big doe eyes, one of your favourite features of his. 

“I’m so sorry for hurting you, Y/N.”

“It’s not your fault Mark. You didn’t know. I should be the one who’s sorry. I made you miss your chance with that girl Jeno introduced you to.

Mark shook his head and let out a chuckle.

“Trust me, Y/N. I have zero interests in her. She’s even a slytherin.”

Mark has a grudge against slytherins after his ex, citing that they’re too complicated.

“I rather hang out with you, my felllow gryffindor. I’ll call Jeno and see when we can leave.”

He stood up and dialed Jeno’s number. You didn’t bother listening to what they were saying as you zoned out of reality, trying to calm your beating heart for the sweetheart in front of you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. I called him while he was fucking. But he said he’ll be done in an hour or so.”

Mark said as he sat down on the bed next to you.

“Go get us a bottle of something Mark. I’m in the mood for a drink. Drink with me?”

You didn’t mean to sound breathless, but you just wanted a drink really badly, and the existing alcohol in your system was playing games to your head.

Mark gulped down his nervousness and agreed to find something for the both of you downstairs.

You kicked off your other shoe, grateful for the lack of heels, and laid down the bed.

As you were getting lost in your thoughts, Mark came back with a small bottle of what you assumed to be henessy.

“That’s some strong stuff you got there.”

“This is why we’re sharing.”

Mark took a sip from the bottle and handed it to you. He took off his own shoes and climbed into bed next to you, the alcohol in your system giving you the courage to snuggle close to his side as the both of you took turns drinking from the bottle.

It must’ve been forever when Jeno came looking for the both of you, the bottle long empty, with a drunk emotional Mark by your side. As Mark had drank more from the bottle than you, citing that you were barely sober before, he’s the one who’s completely hammered now, while you were just tipsy, an improvement from all the other times you had drank.

Mark was mumbling incoherently as Jeno held onto his arm over his shoulder, while Jeno’s other hand was held onto yours, insisting that you still had too much alcohol in your system to fend for yourself, to the disliking of Jeno’s fans.

“Mark, shut up!”

“Jeno, what’s wrong?”

“He keeps asking why I’m holding your hand, and when I say why, he keeps saying don’t. Something’s seriously wrong with drunk Mark.”

“Let’s just quickly get him into the car. You didn’t drink tonight, right?”

“No.”

After Jeno successfully sat him in the backseat, Mark reached for your hand and told you to sit next to him instead of the front. So you obliged to his request, sitting next to him, his head instantly falls onto your shoulder.

As all of you were halfway to home, Mark suddenly sat up and looked you in the eyes, trying to stable himself as much as possible in his intoxicated state.

“Y/N, I like you.”

No, he couldn’t. He’s probably not in his right mind and is just saying that as friends. But you couldn’t deny the way your heart sped up at his words. Why does he have to mess with your heart this way?

“Mark, don’t say things that you don’t mean and will forget in the morning.Whatever you want to tell me, say it to me in the morning when you’re sober, not now.”

“But I do mean it! I’ve liked you since the second month you moved in with us! I mean it, Y/N, every word. I’m not going to forget this in the morning. I’ll say it a million times.”

Mark then started to repeat that he likes you, each time getting louder. You could see Jeno’s shoulders tensing up at the noise, but the car had already reached the driveway.

You and Jeno carried Mark to his room with no big difficulties.

“Can you get him in the bed properly on your own? I’m really tired.”

“Yeah, sure. Goodnight, Jeno.”

“Night, Y/N.”

Once Jeno left, Mark started acting up again, whining your name.

“Okay, okay. I’m here now. Remind me not to let you get drunk next time. Who knew you could be such a whiny baby when you’re not sober.”

You said as you took off his shoes and placed his legs in his bed,covering him in his fluffy blanket.

You prepared to stand up when Mark held onto your hand.

“Cuddles?”

“I need to get myself cleaned up, Mark. You can have cuddles tomorrow, that is if you still want them.”

You shushed Mark who was acting up again by warning him of a grumpy Jeno next door.

So you left Mark and went back to your own room and washed up for the night. You slipped under your blanket, the warmth welcoming you. Just as you were about to fall asleep, someone slipped into your bed.

One whiff from your nose tells you it’s Mark. When you were about to tell him to go back to his won room, he speaks up.

“I love you,Y/N.”

You chose to not open your eyes as you didn’t know how to answer to his drunken love confession, instead you let him cuddle you to slumber, knowing that you were going to regret this in the morning.

When Mark woke up, he was surprised to see himself not being in his own room, then realising it was Y/N’s room, letting out a breath of air he didn’t realise he was holding.

Y/N was sound asleep beside him, her pretty face illuminated by the rays sunlight of sunlight peeking in through the curtains that weren’t drawn completely.

She’s beautiful, Mark thought to himself.

He observed further, the way your nose perfectly arches, the way your pretty lips are opened slightly, he couldn’t get enough of you. His thoughts took him back to the way you looked in that stunning dress last night, all dolled up, but looking at the person beside him right now, he prefers your face without a drop of make up more, the way he sees you on a daily basis, the Y/N that effortlessly made him fall for.

Mark climbed out your bed carefully, hoping his actions wouldn’t wake you up. When he got out to the kitchen to get some cereal for breakfast, there were already nutella sandwiches awaiting him, Jeno sitting at the other side of the island.

”Is there something wrong? You only make me breakfast when we have serious talks, did you break something?”

“No. But we do need to talk. I’ll let you listen to something I recorded last night in the car while you were drunk off your ass.”

Jeno placed his phone on the island and opened the recording app, tapped on last night’s recording.

Instantly, Mark whining about him liking Y/N from last night was all over the house.

Mark quickly shut off the recording and looked Jeno in the eye.

“What the fuck, bro? What if she woke up?”

“Then you’ll have the guts to confess. Look, I respect you as an older brother, but this has been going on for too long, it’s high time you should tell her your feelings. Y/N’s a nice and pretty girl, if you won’t confess by today, I’m calling Jaemin.”

Jaemin is the kid in Jeno’s department, that has had a crush on Y/N for months now.

“I’ll do it. Okay? Happy?”

“Eat up, then you’re going to make pancakes for Y/N.”

When Mark went back into Y/N’s room with the warm fluffy pancakes, she was still fast asleep,the only difference was that Y/N’s oversized shirt was ridden up to her upper thigh, exposing her beautiful legs.

Mark swallowed down the lump in his throat and pulled the blanket up to your waist. He placed the plate of pancakes on your nightstand and gently shook you awake.

“Y/N, wake up. I made you pancakes.”

Y/N roused from slumber at the scent of her favourite breakfast.

“Thank you Mark.”

Mark scratched the back of his nape as he sat down on your bed.

“Look, Y/N, what happened last night, the things I said, I really meant them.”

Y/N nearly choked on her pancakes.

“You remember?”

“Jeno made me listen to a recording of me trashing around last night on the ride home. I’m sorry if it made you awkward, but I do like you, and it’s fine if you don’t feel the same, we can still be friends just like last time...

Mark wouldn’t meet your eyes as he confessed, stuttering his words here and there, but this is the Mark you’ve grown to love.

“I like you too, Mark.”

“Really? But I’m just...

You shut him up by slamming your lips to his, he was shocked and frozen at first, but slowly reciprocated the kiss, his hands hesitantly placed on your waist as he gently pulls you closer to him.

You let your hands wander up his shirt, testing the waters. Mark took that as a sign to quicken the pace and shimmied his hands under your shirt, but being the clumsy head he is, his hands strayed too far up, fingertips grazed the underside of your right breast.

His touch sent tingles down your spine, a tiny moan escaping your lips. When Mark realised what he had done, he quickly pulled away to apologise.

“It’s fine, Mark. You can touch me.”

You took his hand back under your shirt, cupped his hand over your breast.

As Mark was busy toying with your nipples, you slid his shirt off, interrupting his ministrations. You had seen Mark shirtless a handful of times, but boy isn’t he a sight.

“Can I?” He asked as his fingers toyed with the hem of your shirt.

You took it off yourself, in a hurry to feel more of Mark. Mark’s eyes were filled with lust as he admires you being topless. You broke off his stare as you climbed on him, grinding on his obvious boner.

“Fuck, Y/N.”

“Mark, please. I want you now.”

Mark makes a quick action of taking off your panties and his sweats and boxers.

Your eyes darted towards the direction of his cock as his erection hits against his stomach as he freed it from its confines. You took his cock in your hands and started giving him a handjob, getting him lubricated in his own precum. After a few strokes, you put him in your mouth. Mark, being caught off guard from your sudden boldness, lets out a string of moans in between your name.

You bob your head up and down, trying your best to make him feel good, as Mark shut his eyes because of your sudden hollowed cheeks, you sneaked a hand up to cup his balls, making his light thrusts in your mouth stutter its movements.

He was close, but he didn’t want this to just be about himself.

“Y/N, stop. I want to cum inside you.”

Mark away from your mouth with a satisfying pop. He looked down to see your face covered in spit and his arousal, his need for you increasing by the second. 

You lay down onto the bed as Mark hovered over you, his eyes boring into yours like a predator to its prey.

Mark opens up your legs, your wet pussy greeting him in delight, he could see how desperate you are for him, the trail of wetness trailing down your beautiful thighs, all just for him. He pushes two fingers into you, the warmth of wetness of your walls greeting him, he could just imagine how good you’ll feel wrapped around his length.

Mark  shakes his head in disbelief as he witnesses  the amount of arousal dripping onto his fingers, he takes both of his fingers out and puts them in his mouth, tasting you.

“Fuck, Mark. That’s so hot.”

“You haven’t even experienced the full course yet, baby.”

You blush at the nickname Mark have given you, to his liking. Mark leans down to give you a kiss as he pushes himself in, your back arches at the sudden pleasure filled intrusion, Mark scatters kisses across your neck, wanting to take your attention away from the ache.

Mark had to hold back his primal side to give you time to adjust to his length, his mind being clouded by how tight and warm you are.

Slowly, the pain turned into pleasure, you rocked your hips to signal Mark to move. Taking it as a sign, Mark started thrusting into you, slow and deep strokes, it had you whimpering his name in his ear, moans and grunts bouncing off the walls of your tiny room.

“Faster, Mark.”

Mark takes your legs to let you wrap them around his torso, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass, definitely leaving marks. Mark pulled out most of his cock, leaving only the tip inside you, and slams back into you.

You scream his name as he snaps his hips against yours, his length constantly hitting your sweet spot because of angle he switched to, your walls convulsing around him, making Mark throw his head back at the heightened pleasure.

You were sure the whole house could hear the sounds of Mark’s balls slapping against your ass, the snapping of his hips against yours, and the screams and moans falling freely from your mouth.

“M-mark, I’m close.”

Mark slips a hand in between your bodies to rub circular motions on your clit, urging you to cum quicker.

“Let go for me, baby.”

One last thrust from his lips with a mixture of your name falling from Mark’s pretty lips was enough to push you off the edge, your orgasm hitting you like a bus.

Mark’s thrusts stutters and gets sloppier at the way your orgasm fills up your cavern, warming him till the tip of his toes, a wave of pleasure pushing him to his orgasm.

He rides out both your highs as he milks himself into you. As the both of you come down from your highs, he pulls out of you, his cum dripping out of you.

“What a sight.” Mark confesses.

Mark uses two fingers to push his cum right back into your dripping pussy, and leaves to run you a bath in your bathroom.

Mark carries you into the bathtub as he strokes your head, making you fall asleep in your after sex bliss, with the boy of your dreams by your side.

[nepenthendline]

Care - Tanaka

yes I know all I’ve been writing is Tanaka but I love him ok he deserves it, is this literally 3.4k words of loving Tanaka, yeah, yeah it is

this is a little fic of you taking care of and spoiling Tanaka since he’s always taking care of you!

While he may seem a little wild and rough, Tanaka was the sweetest, most selfless person you had ever met. Every day he put so much effort into taking care of you, bringing you snacks in case you were hungry, giving you his jacket when you were cold, surprising you with gifts to brighten your day. He truly loved doing things for you, and showing his love and respect for you by making your life a little easier every day.

It really did make him happy to be able to take care of you; he felt such a fulfilling sense of pride being able to be your support system and being the man you can count on, but he needed to be cared for too. You always tried to do things for him, but he’d always tell you that you didn’t need to, or he’d get in first and do it for you. He knew you loved him, and he wanted you to focus on your own health and happiness before his. Giving him cuddles and kisses was often the only way you were able to show your appreciation to him, which he loved, but you wanted to do more. 

You didn’t want to wait until his birthday, or use an excuse such as Valentine’s day to be able to dote on your boyfriend, so, seemingly so carefree, you asked him after school if he would be free to hang out on the weekend since you’d have the house to yourself, and of course, he agreed. He would never miss a time to be with you.

He got to yours in the late morning, giving you a big grin and a small bunch of your favourite flowers. Even on such casual days, he still wanted to give you a reason to smile, and he knew how much you loved having flowers in your space. They weren’t expensive at all; in fact they came from his coach’s shop where Ukai was nice enough to give them to him half-price since he knew the boy had a partner to spoil, but you always reacted as if he had bought you an entire field of the finest roses. 

“Baby, you didn’t have to! You’re so sweet, thank you so much. They’re beautiful,” you whined as you took the flowers from his grasp and placed them under your noses, breathing in their fresh scent. He let out a chuckle, before wrapping you up in his arms and kissing your cheek.

“I know, but I wanted to. You look so cute when you get them and you worked so hard at school this week,” his eyes were beaming as if he had received the flowers himself. Your cheeks burned a little as you have him a peck, and thanked him again, before rushing off to find a vase. 

“So babe, what did you want to do today? We can finish watching that show you liked?” He asked, walking into the kitchen to give you a hand once he set his backpack down. 

“Well, I actually had something in mind for today,” you hinted at, turning towards him after popping the flowers in the water and displaying them on your table.

“Whatever you want to do, I’m down for!” He spoke with so much enthusiasm that you giggled a little, and continued.

“I guess you’ll have to wait and see, it’s a surprise,” he tilted his head in confusion as your comment, his brow furrowed.

“A surprise? F-for me?” He stuttered. As much confidence as he had, and as loud as he could be, you could send him into a blushing mess in seconds. You nodded with a smile, clasping your hands together in front of you nervously.

“Yeah, I want to take care of you today, and do things you like to do,” you watched closely for his; his mouth opened and closed a couple times with his eyes a little wider than usual before he finally spoke. 

“I-You don’t have to do that, silly! I love doing whatever you wanna do, and making my baby happy.”

“I know, and I want to do this.” You moved forward and placed your hands on his chest, looking him in the eyes as you spoke. His cheeks were tinged with pink and his heart was beating faster than usual, but he nodded, speechless.

You both made your way out of the house, walking together into the nearby town. You had one hand in his, and the other wrapped around his arm. Honestly, he was a little nervous, and you could tell. Not that he didn’t want to be pampered by you, but it was so deeply ingrained in him that it was his job to put you first, take care of you and make you happy, not the other way round. 

You reached your destination, which was a cute bakery that also had it’s own cafe. The place was known well around the area for their delicious cakes and melonpan, Tanaka’s favourite food, as well as the peaceful, pastel decoration. You quickly found a table to sit at; Tanaka, of course, pulled out a chair for you to fit on before sitting down himself. 

“Ahh, it smells so good in here. They definitely have chocolate melonpan, oh, and matcha! I can smell it,” he was practically drooling as he took in his surroundings. You giggled, taking his hand from across the table and pointed to the menu signs above the cashier, asking him what he wanted.

“A chocolate melonpan for sure, and maybe a stawberry one too. Oh, and a latte! What do you want? I’ll go get it for us,” he started pulling out his wallet before you put your hand on his arm, stopping him. 

“Nope, I’m getting it for us. Put that away,” he tried to refuse, but you gave him a stern look and headed off to order.

A few moments later, you came back with your treats and a paper bag.

“Hmm, what’s that?” He asked, picking up the bag and taking a peak inside. There was another four melonpan in various flavours special to the bakery that he hadn’t tried before. 

“I got you some extras to take home with you,” you could have melted from the look he have you. His eyes seemed a shake a little as he slowly looked up at you from the bag, and his mouth hung open slightly. He, then, let out a big grin, thanking you repeatedly for your gift, telling you that he’ll enjoy them.

“You can eat them with me too!” You chuckled at his response; he had no idea how to enjoy things to himself without his selflessness kicking in. The two of you chatted while you had your treats, him telling you about how the volleyball team had been doing, and you keeping him up-to-date with all the drama in your class. He was always something that seemed happy and up-beat constantly, but you could tell that today he truly was feeling good. His eyes were sparkling, his hands waved around and he spoke, and he stared at you so gently as you spoke, listening carefully to what you had to say. 

A while later after finishing, you headed out of the cafe and hooked your arm around his, bringing him on to the next place. There was a game shop that was a little walk away, and he had been talking about getting some new games recently for his console. You didn’t play too often with him, but you preferred watching him as his face went through a variety of emotions trying to get past each level, and how he moved his body around as if it would help him move in-game. 

“I thought we could take a look in here, see if there’s any games you’d like to try,” you mentioned, stepping into the store.

“Are you sure? We can go somewhere else, I don’t wanna bore you looking around,” he sounded so concerned, as if you’d had just come to him saying you were sick.

“Today’s about you, remember? Besides, I like looking around too,” you reassured him, and, with that, he set off to scour each shelf of possible games. Every time he found one he liked the look of, he called you over to tell you all about it, and you listened and made comments along the way. It was nice to let him indulge in his hobbies, and getting to hear about all the things he liked and dislikes in games, or what genres he preferred to play. You loved watching how his mouth moved as he sub-consciously read the blurbs to himself, or how his brow would tighten when he didn’t like a certain game, or the way he would quickly look between two games in his hands, comparing them together. 

You had been in the shop for around 40 minutes, before Tanaka came bundling over to you with a game in his hands.

“This one looks so cool! And it’s on sale so I’ve got enough for it, do you think I should get it?” He looked like a puppy that had brought back it’s ball you had thrown; he bounced in his spot as he spoke, and he pushed the game into your hands to show you. You didn’t really understand what the game was about, but he seemed to like it a lot.

“Let me get it for you?” You knew he was going to say no, but you really wanted to spoil him today. Whenever you saw him, he always seemed to have a new gift for you, and while money or presents weren’t important in your relationship, it did feel so nice to be thought of like that. And you wanted to do the same for him. 

“No, no, I’ll get it. You save your money for yourself baby, I can pay for my stuff,” he offered a smile and stood straight, as if he were trying to puff out his chest to look more manly. You pleaded again, but of course, he just said no.

You had to resort to your last option. 

You hung your head a little lower, and pushed your bottom lip out in a pout while looking at Tanaka in hooded eyes.

“Please baby? It would make me really happy to buy you the game,” you asked in a cute voice, putting emphasis on the ‘baby’ and tapping your fingers together. You knew he couldn’t resist your puppy-dog face, and he would do anything that you say would make you happy. He tried so hard to stay strong, to look away and resist you, but he couldn’t. 

“Argh, fine. Only because you’re so adorable and because it’ll make you happy. But never again!” You let out a gleeful squeal, thanking him while running off to the cashier to purchase the game. He couldn’t help but chuckle at your excitement, watching you as you readily handed over your money for him. You came skipping back over with a bag containing his gift and handed it over with a smile. He took the bag, looking at it for a moment, before tucking you close to his chest and wrapping you up tightly. He swung you as he held you, thanking you often and smothering your face in light kisses. 

You walked hand-in-hand on your way home. He spent the whole time telling you what a great day he had, and how thankful he was for the things you did for him. 

“I can’t wait to get back and give you the biggest cuddles for today; I’ll hug you, I’ll play with your hair, I’ll give you a massage too!” He was in his own little dreamland of all the things he could do for you. You giggled, and as much as you wanted those things from him, this was his day. 

As soon as the two of you got home, he already had you lifted in his arms to carry you to the sofa, and tangled yourselves together as you sat down.

“Did you bring your console with you? Why don’t you try out your game for a bit?” You knew he was excited to start it, since he had talked about it the whole way back. But he shook his head and held you tighter. 

“It’s ok, it’s only a one-player so we won’t be able to play together.”

“I can watch you play! I’d like to see how you do, I bet you’d get through the levels so quickly since you’re really good at games,” you said, boosting his ego. His eyes widened, and he shot up from the sofa with a new-found energy. 

“In that case, I’ll show you all my cool skills, and you can watch and learn,” he pointed at himself with pride, before scurrying off to get his game. 

You watched him play for a couple hours, admiring him as he got so caught up in the storyline and battling the monsters. He was such an energetic guy that you rarely had moments where you could just sit down and watch him. While it was better for you, you really didn’t understand why Tanaka wasn’t a popular guy. Sure, he could get a little hot-headed, but he was so handsome and kind. He had beautiful, piercing eyes, and a jaw-line that could cut you, not to mention his muscular, broad build. Seeming him smile made you feel so warm and, still, gave you butterflies. There was something so innocent and pure about his smile that contrasted his edgy appearance, and reminded you of the generous, loving man he was. 

A rumble from his stomach knocked you out of your trance, and you checked your phone to see it was already past 7pm. You gave him a kiss on his cheek, and stood up. 

“I’m going to get dinner ready while you play,” of course, he went to put his console away and offer you his help, but you pushed him back on the sofa and told him to stay put, then headed out to the kitchen. 

You could smell the flowers he brought you every time you turned while preparing your food, sending a giddy smile on your face. Tanaka was actually pretty good at cooking since his sister made him learn growing up, and you enjoyed making meals with him keeping you company, but you didn’t want him lifting a finger today. You could hear his shouts and button-smashing from your spot, making you chuckle from time-to-time as you cooked. A little while later, you called him in, telling him dinner was ready. 

He came leaping in, excitement clear in his long strides, and he twirled you around after you put your bowls on the table, giving you a hard, passionate kiss as thanks. He let out a variety of ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ as he inspected and tasted the curry you made for him, quickly, and messily scoffing it down. Setting his empty bowl in front of him, he leaned back on his chair and patted his stomach as he beamed.

“That was so good, I’m so full now, but I could eat ten more bowls of that if you made it,” if Tanaka wanted to be flirty and smooth on purpose, it would send him into a stuttering, blushing mess, but when he wasn’t trying he could compliment and make you swoon non-stop. 

You did the dishes, with his help this time as he refused to let you do them alone, then headed back to lay on the sofa for a little while. He went back to playing his game, letting you try a couple times as you both got lost in the action. You were getting a little sleepy, and you could tell he was too since his reflexes weren’t as sharp as before, so you wanted to start settling down for the night with him. You excused yourself, saying you were going to the bathroom, which wasn’t technically a lie. After walking in, you started running a bath for your boyfriend, popping in a bath bomb and lighting some candles around the counter tops so you could switch off the light. 

You were a bit nervous to invite him up; you’d never done something like this for him before, and you had no clue if he would like it. He was a sucker for romantic things though, something you’d learned from your time together, but would this be a little to cheesy?

You must had taken a while to set up since you heard Tanaka walking towards the bathroom.

“Hey baby? Are you ok? You’ve been gone a-oh,” he walked into the bathroom since you had left the door open, and his eyes took in the sight before him. The flickering candles reflected off his eyes, showing the moisture that threatened to spill over. His gaze was fixated across each little detail in the room: the sweet, relaxing smell of the candles, the bubbly surface of the water, the fluffy towels that were hung over the radiator - he was dumbstruck. 

“Um, it’s for you. Sorry if it’s a little much, I just wanted to make it special for you,” you mumbled shyly. He didn’t say anything except look at you. The room was dark but you could see grey, sparkling eyes so clearly. 

He walked over to you, and pulled you into his arms, tucking his face into your neck. One hand was wrapped around your back, and the other supported your head. You stayed there for a few minutes, his grip around you getting tighter and his fingers tangled in your hair. You could feel the steady pace of his heart against your chest, and he pressed the occasional loving kiss on your neck. Slowly, he pulled away, resting his forehead on yours with his face flushed and a dazed smile on his lips. He let his arms fall, and grabbed onto your hands instead, leaning in and meeting your lips with his. The kiss was slow and passionate, but innocent too. You pulled back and cupped a hand on his cheek.

“Let’s get you undressed, the water will go cold if you wait to long,” he nodded, and you helped him out of his clothes and guided him over to the bath. He sunk fully into the water with the bubbles surrounding his body, and let out a deep hum of satisfaction and letting his eyes close as he felt each and every muscle relax. You sat on the floor next to the bath, hanging one over the edge to gently run your fingers over the skin on his leg.

He opened his eyes and turned to look at you. He looked so calm and peaceful, every tension that was usually in his face was gone, and his eyes were lidded while his lips lazily turned up. You moved your hand higher, stroking his soft cheek instead as you admired him. 

“You’re always doing things for me, taking care of me and making me so happy, and I wanted to take care of you for a change. You’re so amazing, Ryu, and I’m so lucky to have someone so caring and thoughtful as my partner, and I hope you know how thankful I am of everything you do.” Your voice was quiet, but in the silence of the room he could hear you perfectly. He had to bit his lip to stop it from quivering; no one had ever done something like this for him before. His heart felt like bursting with love and warmth, and his mind was following a mantra of how much he loved you, but he knew if he spoke his voice would fail him. He swallowed hard as it tightened, and he moved your hand to his lips, kissing the palm and letting it linger there. He closed his eyes again, letting himself melt into your touch. You couldn’t tell if the moisture on your hand was from the bath or from his eyes. He took a deep breath,

“I love you, so so much,” he murmured, his voice cracking slightly. You smiled, leaning forward and pressing a gentle kiss on his forehead.  You ducked your head down a little to meet his red, watering eyes.

“And I love you, too. I want to be able to take care of you too, that’s what I’m here to do. So, please, let me show you my love and treat you like the perfect prince you are.”

[beni-draw-ikemen-please]

EYES NOSE LIPS CH 8

EYES NOSE LIPS CHAPTER 8 - AFTER

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR X ASAMI ODA [OC]

Rating: Explicit /18+ ONLY PLEASE

Word Count: 4,6235

Tags: Angst, Mutual Pining, Unrequited Crush, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Non-Consensual Touching, Slow Burn, Long-Term Relationship(s)

You can read the previous Chapters below:

CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 2 | CHAPTER 3 | CHAPTER 4 | CHAPTER 5 | CHAPTER 6 | CHAPTER 7

Leona Kingscholar tried to avoid the prefect. After the blazer episode, it made it more difficult for him to think straight, especially when it involved her or anyone in her circle.

He made sure not to encounter any of the annoying first years, and he desperately didn’t need anyone’s nagging.

For the first time in a long time, Leona attended classes with a half-assed sort of purpose, without fail— at least he tried— several days in a row.

And, with Winter Holidays rushing in, he made sure to let his family know he’ll be there for the holidays.

For the first time in a long time he didn’t dread going back home.

Ruggie was suspicious, of course. And even though he knew it could backfire, he proceeded with Curry Night plans even without the Dorm Leader’s approval.

Not yet anyway , he thought.  

Asami felt like the more she ran into the Savanaclaw Dorm leader, the more trouble she caused, and the more he disliked her.

So on the days after their library mishap, she tried her best not to go around the area where third-year students frequented.

She didn’t want to avoid Leona—in fact, she wanted to see him and thank him for all his help until now.

But she tried her best to stop herself. If there’s something she was proud of, it was her self-restraint and patience.

She’d suck the cold air through her teeth, breathe in, and let it go.

I can’t be selfish now , she thought.

She became increasingly aware that, maybe her attempts to make him lunchboxes again—masked as a way of thanks— could be a way for her to impress him, and eventually win his heart. Asami chuckled at the thought of how silly that would be. And how she should wake up from her daydreams of him.

Daydreams of hoping she can get close. She didn’t like this side of her.

Bending over for others, but ultimately, knowing that it is for her self satisfaction.

She didn’t want to think about it, but she knew, deep down, she wanted something in return.

What exactly she wanted from Leona Kingscholar, she did not dare say.

She did not dare think, either. She wanted to believe she didn’t want anything from him.

She just really wanted him to know that he was special, at least to her.

And at the very least, she wanted him to feel that, whatever she’s capable of doing to make him feel that way, she was willing to do.

Asami’s schedule left no free time to seek Leona out.

Maybe it’s better that her schedule is so overloaded until it was time for him to graduate, then she can move on, and then, when they meet somewhere in the distant future, she can just tell him everything and they can both laugh about it. Maybe .

However, things, secrets, and feelings you try to bury, almost always find their way back to the surface.

Whether Asami liked it or not, she was becoming increasingly aware of her feelings towards the Dorm Leader.

Now, it was just up to her, her sanity and self-control if she was going to keep it buried.

On the days when she’s not working in Mostro Lounge, Asami made sure her hands were always occupied.

Many after-school activities in Night Raven required magic skills and or flying skills.

Unfortunately, she didn’t have magic in her system to participate in those, let alone try.

Grim would hang around Ace or Deuce and Jack, and she was happy to find a club that could accommodate her and she enjoyed something other than being holed up in the dark corners of the library.

Asami was an only child, so being around Trey and Jamil made her feel like she had older brothers. The three of them enjoyed cooking, and once Trey found out that she too had a knack for whipping up exquisite dishes, he formed a mini club for the three of them. Jamil was happy to oblige. He enjoyed cooking and teaching. He enjoyed sharing cooking methods, spices, and flavours native to the Land of Hot Sands. Asami felt like she had a place where she belonged. The mini club was a place where she could be, somewhat, true to herself. Being around her fellow first years felt like she’d been placed to be their caretaker, so being around her upperclassmen felt different and alleviated some of her stress.

Asami wasn’t one to make sweets and cakes - no. She’s more of a savoury home cook. So she enjoyed being around Trey and Jamil. She was happy to learn every time they spent afternoons cooking a new dish. Ace, Deuce, and Grim were the usual test subject for their new recipes. And when available, Jack and Epel were there to try some too.

Deuce felt relieved to see the prefect befriend more people around her.

He enjoyed watching her spend time with Jack and Epel, and he was always happy to let Grim stay over whenever she needed some time alone.

But Deuce could see it, how she would often look out the window during class.

How she’d sometimes take a detour to see if the Magift Club was practicing.

She’d avoid the botanical gardens’ Temperate Zone, but she’ll still walk outside, maybe, secretly hoping she’d run into him.

She barely spoke of Kingscholar.

Ace didn’t mind and don't seem to notice, but he did.

Sometimes, he’d ask Jack what he thought of the situation, and they’ve come to an agreement that yes, the prefect is avoiding Leona.

But really, it felt like self-inflicted torture when they watch her sigh and frown and anticipate only to be let down.

“So you noticed it too, huh, Jack?” Deuce asked out of the blue whilst tying the laces of his shoe.

One knee popped up on the bleachers. Jack sat beside him with a towel on his head.

A short break after ten laps around the field. Jack’s tail flopped down and propped back up when he heard Deuce’s question.

It’s not quite visible, but his ears twitched under the towel. His thighs supported his arms as he leaned over.

“It’s quite obvious, I think,” Jack’s voice was quiet. He kept thinking of ways to answer the next questions that might come without letting Deuce know that maybe, just maybe, he was a little bit too interested in the prefect. He tried his best not to make it seem obvious, really he did. But even though Deuce isn’t the best in academics, he’s good at noticing the little things, especially when it came to his friends.

“You’re quite obvious too, Jack,” Deuce chuckled, securing the last knot and then sitting down next to Jack to cool down.

Jack was caught off-guard, of course. He didn’t think anyone noticed.

His mouth opened, readying a protest but stopped and sighed.

Thankful that the towel on his head hid the blush on his face but he was too embarrassed to notice that his tail gave it all away.

Deuce chuckled at the sight of Jack’s fluffy tail wagging in delight and anticipation. No name was mentioned, but they both had the same person’s face in mind.

                                           ══════ ∘◦❁◦∘ ══════

“You’ve been working so hard,” Jade’s voice was always mellow in her ears. She always thought that even if he was reading a receipt, it would be enough to keep her head calm and send her to sleep in no time. She’d look up to him, lips curved up into a gentle smile, happy to hear his praise. Jade’s skillful gloved hands carefully setting some copper canisters and boxes of tea leaves before the two of them. His eyes were focused on the task at hand, long lashes casting shadows that seemed to enhance the mischievous shine of his mismatched ochre and rust eyes. “Azul mentioned you can have the week before Winter Holidays off, too.” his tone was low, sturdy, and smooth. The words rolling off his lips sounded like a quiet distant record playing in the background, Asami didn’t intend to but her focus shifted from the canister labels to his lips.

He was looking at her now, and their eyes met. He smiled even more as his gaze held hers. He was aware of this, and she didn’t know whether it was appropriate or whether she should look away. She could feel her cheeks warming up. Jade then shifted his gaze back to his hands. Careful with the intention not to embarrass the prefect, but sure to tease just a little bit to coax her attention back to the lounge. She would drift far away, and Jade would not know where her mind would swim off to. But he became better and better at directing her focus back into reality, back into the tea they were blending, back to him.

Maybe his hypnotic and sensuous way of speaking and moving came hand-in-hand with his unique magic. But he wasn’t one to use that power on her— not now, at least. He was curious, though. Who her special person was. It was painfully obvious. The sighs, and anticipation as she welcomed new patrons, the slump on her shoulders when she seemed to not find who she was looking for. How her eyes hovered around when it was Savanaclaw students that entered the lounge. That alone was his clue, and he could definitely work his way to that sensitive info without trying or even using magic.

He knew, whoever this person was, she would give it all away, at the sight of them. And his skin itched with trepidation.

“A week,” she stopped her hands and Jade could’ve sworn they looked like heavy boulders trying to plant themselves onto the floor right there and then. His own hands stopped moving with the sudden weight of this supposedly-pleasant surprise. Surely, she’d been thinking of a day off, or when she could free herself from the shackles that were work, work, and work. Jade could’ve sworn he heard her swallow. And he feared that his plans of giving her some free time might not be the best for their little human. His mind raced to find an alternative, a solution — something. Something to perk her spirits back up.

She didn’t finish her sentence, instead, she looked up to him and gave him a gentle smile. A hint of force and worry slightly furrowed at her brows, but she tried her best to smile, the best she could and she thanked him. With that small voice, she always used around others. Jade leaned in and placed a light hand on her shoulder. “You are still welcome here, of course,” He stayed there and lingered a bit, catching a glimpse of the tips of her ear now with a slight hue of pink. He was incredibly close, but not closer than how Floyd would usually be around her.

Asami didn’t mind Floyd’s hugs and playful embraces. But when it came to Jade, something stern and sure would always trap them together when they are in close proximity. And she would feel it in her skin and she would blush.

“We don’t go home until the spring until the glaciers have melted down,” his hand brushed from her shoulders to the back of her head, a slight tug towards him. His hands gave comfort to the touch-starved Asami and her shoulders pulled themselves in instinctively. She felt comfortable around the twins enough for moments like these. Somehow, being this close gave Jade the permission he was seeking to touch her, trying his best to be as casual as possible and hiding every bit of curiosity and intention he had under his sleeves.

Asami looked up at him, searching and yearning but she didn’t allow herself to be spoiled by Jade Leech. She was— at least to some extent — still afraid of him and the meaning behind his polite speech and smiles. Though she’d favour him among the Octavinelle trio any day, a hint of fear kept her distant. She gave him a meek smile and a nod, and he understood that she was okay with it and she’ll be there. Their little human didn’t say much unless it was something urgent or important or when needed to be polite. Jade quite liked that, but he too was the listening, observing type. So he’d expected the opposite from her, to say the least. He grew to expect more and more things from Asami as they spent more after-school days together.

And, he would write them all down, neatly into a fresh, pristine piece of paper and he would fold that paper and tuck it away into his breast pocket.

Like a charm to ward off unwanted guests. Like a prayer to the sea witch— a wish. A secret wish he’d allow himself the pleasure. Just this once, maybe he can have something for himself. Something like a little human companion. Maybe — her. Maybe .

                                          ══════ ∘◦❁◦∘ ══════

Jade, however, was close to making an assumption. It might be, the first year— his name, Jack Howl. The white wolf.

He might be the special person, Jade thought.

He would, sometimes be waiting outside the lounge just as Asami’s shift ends. And they would happily walk towards the mirror together. No physical contact or whatsoever, so Jade assumed it might be somewhat of a one-sided love. Or a crush. He wasn’t certain of anything, but starting from Savanaclaw gave him a good narrow-down.

Whenever she would finish her shift and just after she changed from her silk suits and fedora, she’d pop her head back into the lounge to give the twins, and everyone working a wave and a bow of thanks. She did that, and Jade found it incredibly cute, though he could never allow himself to utter those words, especially around Floyd or Azul, but he made sure to show them, crystal-clear and evident in everything he did around her and for her.

A refreshing new blend for her to enjoy before she started her shift, and a fruit bowl after she was done. She wasn’t one for sweets and Jade quickly figured it out after serving her some scones that one time. She was polite to take them, but it took all the time to get her to finish those three plain scones whilst she downed three cups of their dark roast. Again, he was wrong to judge her— to think she’d be just like a normal girl who favoured sweets. Jade was happily surprised. Mental notes here and there. He did, however, notice her with a small box of macarons just as she was walking out of Trey Clover’s class. They had spoken about their mini club, and Asami was delighted to be a part of something other than the Lounge. Jade liked that she was having fun outside the lounge, but a twinge— just a twinge of jealousy started to bubble from the depths of his stomach at the thought of her spending more time outside their circle. Outside the wall, he so meticulously built— though unconsciously— around her.

That day, he decided to ask her. He saw the opportunity of her staying for the winter holidays as a way to be closer— closer. Just as she was about to head off, he asked if she’d wait for him to get changed, too. And if she would allow him to walk her to her dorms.

Asami gave him a fervent smile, and with a mellow voice politely declined.

“You don’t have to, Jade-san,” her cheeks slightly turning a soft pink colour, before Jade could see its full view, she was able to lower her head to hide them. And he almost let out a curse but cleared his throat as he straightened himself back up again.

“Please?” Jade was not one to ask twice, nor was he the type to beg for something when he knew exactly how to slither his way into obtaining it. But he had a particularly growing soft spot for her now, and he thought he didn’t want to push it, not having the white wolf wait up for her proved to be a mighty chance to exploit.

“I wouldn’t want to bother you already,” she was hesitating. Her eyes darted everywhere as she lowered her head again, but this time, Jade followed her, leaning down to meet her face, his own mismatched eyes tenderly asking for her approval. “You’re never a bother, Asami-san.”

He let his eyes blink slowly as he anticipated her response. She almost looked like she was holding her breath, and her lips slowly parted. Jade’s eyes settled on her thin lips, which looked dry and cold but all the more inviting to him. He was so very used to places like that. Dry and cold. He imagined as he breathed in, the answer he wanted out of her. And he could hear himself swallow hard and dry, waiting for her sweet and quiet voice to say yes .

With his head lowered like this, he’s noticed two things. That she had an unnoticeable beauty mark just at the base of the side of her neck, hidden away if her collar was in place.

But his sharp rust and ochre eyes gave him the ability to pick up the details around him faster than the usual predator.

His eyes, seemingly all-seeing, made Asami’s cheeks warm and her pulse beat faster. And he noticed that, too.

She had this habit of holding her breath. And then, somehow, maybe when she felt comfortable enough, she would slowly and very quietly exhale.

It was as if it was a chant of some sorts, a spell to make herself invisible in any uncomfortable situation. But she wasn’t invisible to him— no.

She was there and he was looking at her. Mismatched eyes devoting themselves to the strands of her dark hair that made her skin look like she was glowing softly like the moonlight.

On her curious carnelian eyes that made it impossible for her to hide what she was feeling or thinking, eyes that burned with intensity as strong as his curiosity. Lips that seemed, at least to Jade, desperate for a kiss. But he also wore his patience like a badge of honour. And he was one to take his time, with this— whatever this was— he dared not to label anything, no.

Not yet.

Jade took long, smooth and delicate lines made up of the bits of her in his mind, and he painted himself a picture of her, and likewise kept it hidden in his breast pocket.

A prayer, a charm, a secret, skilfully curated by white silk gloves—the little bit of pleasure he allowed himself in—and forever sealed within uncannily and mischievous lips.  

He was looking at her , and his lips curved into a smile so sure, when she finally nodded with a smile.

A/N: I don't really beta or check or whatever and just write as I go and as I think of the scenes in my head. I really, just write for fun. So if you're reading this far, thank you so so so much! 

My TWST boys tier would definitely be:

1 - Leona 2 - Jade / Jack 3 - Floyd / Ruggie

So I am trying to incorporate all these relationships in, I don't really know yet how I'm going to tangle these babies together but I have a pretty clear picture of the coming chapters. 

I hope you look forward to it. Thank you for sticking around~

[sup-hoes-its-me]

A Hero II  (Shinsou x Reader)

A/N: I did not intend for this fic to be three parts, but it seems that I have been writing too fast to keep track of the word count. This chapter will have a little fluff with mostly angst. I promise though, the next part is entirely fluff and my favorite piece to date. Hope you enjoy and thank you so much for the support.

!!!Sort of spoilers but not really you’ll be fine

word count: 4350

Part One/Part Two/ Part Three

“Where are you?”

“I’m with Aizawa-sensei. Is everything okay?”

“Oh, that’s great. Do you mind if I come visit for a minute?”

“Uh, sure, but why?”

“I don’t know, I just really don’t feel good. I feel like crying and I need to see you.”

“Ah, okay. I’ll be waiting for you.”

“I’ll be by the classroom in like, five minutes.”

“See you in a little bit.” 

Shinsou set down his phone after hanging up. “I’m really sorry for taking a call while we’re talking, sensei.”

The dark haired, tired teacher in front of him only sighed and shook his head. He really didn’t care if the kid took a phone call. He was more mature and obedient than the majority of his students, so it wasn’t a big deal. It was nice to take a break from teaching reckless wannabe heroes all day like Midoriya and Bakugo. “Someone coming to interrupt our lesson, I suppose.”

“Yeah, but just for a second. It won’t be an issue.”

“Who?”

“Y/N.”

“Bakugo’s adoptive sister, right?” he asked, exasperated already. He could only imagine the kind of person someone related to that blond devil would be, even if it wasn’t by blood. Just being around him for so long no doubt would corrupt anyone. Having one Bakugo around was more than enough, but two? Unmanageable. A good reason to quit his job.

Shinsou nodded. He fiddled with his neck wrappings, feeling himself getting anxious. He wanted to see Y/N, he really did. But in front of his teacher, someone he looked up to and didn’t want to see him go soft...not ideal. He just hoped she would talk to him outside in private and nothing be heard or seen. “Yes.”

Aizawa leant back against the blackboard, crossing his arms over his chest. Talking about his personal life could be useful too. He was curious about the kid. He was so ambitious and strong-willed, competent in a world of idiots. If this girl, whoever she was, made him happy, that would only boost his morale when fighting. It was a good thing for him to be lovesick, actually. Aizawa hummed, “Interesting. She’s in your class, I completely forgot about that. Didn’t think you were the type to have friends, honestly.” 

“I’m not. It’s just...well, I can’t explain. She’s different.”

A head popped in the doorway of the classroom a moment later, and it was almost as if a cloud  had formed on the ceiling. Her smile was obviously fake, and her eyes screamed with the shine of not-so-distant sadness. He had to close his eyes for a quick moment and take a deep breath to calm himself down. His face was heating up and his heart started to race again. She was so fucking precious, even when she was about to cry..

“Shinsou,” she muttered, not even bothering to step into the classroom.

“I’ll be back in a minute, sensei.”

“That’s fine. Take your time.” The man waved off his student, not wanting to bother him. The girl looked pathetic standing there with that fake grin. Already, he could tell she wasn’t much like her brother. He should have known that knowing Shinsou cared for her so much. He wouldn’t associate with people like the hothead. Aizawa also didn’t hate her upon first glance, and that was quite shocking. He really disliked everyone.

Shinsou stepped outside into the hall. She stepped forward to be closer to him just by a little, and her eyes flickered down to his hand. Knowingly, he reached out to take her hand in his, rubbing the backs of her knuckles with his thumb, just like he always did when she was sad. She was the first one to initiate it, holding his hand that time in the alleyway. Ever since then, she asked for him to hold her hand, to make her feel a little better. 

“Did something happen?”

“No, not really. I’ve just had a really shitty day. I accidentally spilled fruit milk all over my homework and my brand new textbook. When I was walking out to the dorms, that little freak with the purple balls on his head tried to look up my skirt. My mom called and yelled at me because of my grade in mathematics, even though I told her you were gonna start tutoring me, but she didn’t even care. And then, when I got to the dorms, I tried to take a nap but I had this terrible nightmare where you died and stuff, and it’s just been a really bad day.”

“Wow, that does sound shitty, I’m sorry, Y/N,” he said. For a moment he paused, thinking through what he could do for her before asking, “Do you want to wait here and we can go out somewhere when Sensei and I are finished?”

“Maybe. I’d rather hang out with you the rest of the day then go back and wallow in my own self-loathing,” she answered miserably, letting her head fall to stare at her shoes. “I just don’t want to bother you, Shinsou.”

“Don’t say that. You’re never a bother,” he hushed. “Didn’t I tell you I would do anything for you?”

“You’re too nice to me.”

“Not possible. I’m just doing what I want.” He always said that. He was never doing her a favor, she was never making him go out of his way or do something he didn’t want to do. For some reason, he found that whatever she wanted, he also wanted. If she wanted to sleep in bed all day, so be it, that’s what he wanted to do too. If she wanted to travel the world, he might just drop everything in Japan and go with her. He felt ridiculous about it, but it was true. That’s how she made him feel.

Whenever she was happy, he was happy. So, all he wanted was her to be content.

“You’ll have to tell me more about your day and that nightmare you had later. Talking about it helps.”

“Okay.”

“Wait in the library until I’m done?”

“Yeah. I’ll see you later.”

He nodded, taking away his hand to step back into the doorway. He placed a hand on the doorframe and leaned into it. “Bye, Y/N.” His eyes trained on her face as she lifted her head to look at him, a small, genuine smile on her face this time. Maybe he was dramatic, but that girl was all he ever wanted to look at. That smile, it made him feel like a million bucks. He felt like a real hero whenever her lips turned up in that familiar way. 

“Thank you, Hitoshi. Bye…” He turned to enter the classroom but she stopped him, grabbing his wrist before he could completely go. When he turned to see what she wanted, she pushed herself forward into his arms, wrapping her own around his waist. “I really wanted a hug.” 

He sighed into her touch, wrapping his own arms around her shoulder and one to rest on the back of her head. “No problem.”

“Okay, now for real this time, bye.” Finally, the girl pulled away from his hug, waving to him with her now with a full bright smile on her face and a bit of pep in her step. For a moment, all he could look at was her going down the empty hall, he almost forgot what he was originally doing.

“You done?” a voice mumbled behind him, and he jumped. How could he forget that Aizawa was right there? He saw them hug and everything, how awkward. He felt like a real sissy boy in front of his idol. 

“Yes, sorry about that. Won’t happen again.”

The man rolled his eyes, his lip quirking in the tiniest of smirks. “We both know you can’t promise that,” he said. “So what is she? Your little girlfriend?”

His mouth opened and he stumbled over words to say. “No-No, of course not. She’s my friend and that’s it.”

“I see.”

They went back to the lesson as normal, talking and discussing possible moves and tools that could be utilized with his quirk. Still, Y/N ran through his mind over and over. At this point, he felt like he was actually going insane. Why couldn’t he focus on something else for once? Had this girl completely consumed his mind? He just couldn’t shake the thought of her and how she looked at him. Did people normally feel this way for their best friends? He had no idea, he’d never had one to know for sure.

Nevertheless, he wasn’t going to tell anyone about how he felt. He wasn’t really big on talking about his feelings.

The clock ticked away quickly, and by the time he was focused on the lesson at hand, it was already over. Aizawa had to go home to feed his cat dinner, and the sun was just going down for the night. He gathered his things and started out the door, leaving his sensei behind. 

“She’s cute.Your ‘not girlfriend’, that is. She’s not what I expected.”

“Yeah, I know. She’s kinda perfect.”

The older man only sighed, nodding to agree with the boy. “For you.”

“No, she’s just my friend.”

“Fine. She’s the perfect friend for you.” He waved his hands, motioning the boy to leave him the hell alone and go to the library. “Get going, your friend is waiting.”

Needless to say, that was one of the most embarrassing moments of his entire life. 

_____________________________________________

The dorms had been around for a couple months now, that meant that classes lived together and saw each other much more often than they used to. Shinsou had to admit, he wasn’t upset about the change. He couldn’t decide what he liked better, waking up to see Y/N in the dining room in her pajamas and hair untamed, stuffing her face with sugary cereal, or her visiting his room late at night after curfew to watch movies and stare out the window looking for constellations.

God, seeing her every day, even on the weekends... It made him feel like this was worth it. It had been months and he hadn’t tired of her. Normally, he couldn’t stand the same annoying friends after a period of time.

He was nearly asleep when a soft knock sounded on his door, echoing softly in the dorm. Lazily, he picked up a pen from his side table and tossed it to the door with a quiet thud, signalling for the only person it could be to come in. No one visited him in his dorm, no one except her.

The door creaked open, followed by a girl slipping through the crack. A click meant the door had closed, and he let out a breath of relief. She was here again to give him company, something he desperately needed.. 

When she was with him, he felt so different. He felt special, like there was hope for him. He relished in the feeling, entranced by her presence alone. 

"Hey," he breathed, rolling over in his bed to face her. She flopped down on the other side of the bed, face first into the pillows. “What’s up?”

“Lonely and missing you,” she told him. Again, his heart jumped at her words. She missed him. She always told him she missed him, when they were allowed to go home, when they had classes at different times, when she went out with her friend, on long weekends away from the dorms. She always missed him. He was almost sure she was exaggerating. How could she miss him that much? He wasn’t very exciting, just a friend. The only other person she often missed was her brother, who stayed across the yard of dorms.

“Well, what do you wanna do? Watch a movie or something?” he asked.

“Honestly, I just want to talk. I have so many things on my mind.” She paused, rolling over on the bed to face him, face sinking into his pillow. Her eyes held so much fear he thought she must be drowning in it. He had no idea what to expect when she came in that night. She hadn’t texted him or said anything earlier in the day during their classes.

 He wanted to reach out to her and hug her, make her feel some compassion instead, but he thought that was too intimate. If there was one thing he was afraid of, it would be making her uncomfortable. Part of the reason he loved her company was that she seemed completely at ease in his presence and he in hers. 

“It’s about this war,” she whispered.

“What’s worrying you?”

She shut her eyes, not wanting to look him in the eyes directly. Images of her friends and family lay dead in her mind, and she had to take a deep breath to calm down. “All I can think about is how many people we are going to lose. My brother is one of the strongest students here; no doubt he’s going to get dragged into this fight. Hell, he already has.”

Shinsou nodded, lost in a bit of his own thoughts. Everyone knew how dangerous the league was, how horrible the casualties would be. He tried not to think about it, but how can you not when everyone talks about it? When your teachers are preparing to die and leave you behind? “I know what you mean. Aizawa-sensei is in the same position.”

“It just scares me so much,” Y/N whispered, pressing her face deeper into the pillow, trying to find an ounce of comfort in the softness and the scent. Nothing was helping at this point. “What do I do if I lose Katsuki? What happens if they kill Hawks or Endeavour? What do we do then? Society can’t just expect kids to sacrifice their lives.”

“You just have trust in the ones stronger than you. I know it’s hard, hell, I just want to go out and fight alongside them,” he confessed. “But, I can’t, and you can’t.”

“I just hate it. I feel so fucking worthless, Shinsou,” she cursed, tears pooling at the corners of her eyes, soaking into the pillowcase tear after tear. “All Katsuki has ever done for me is protect me, fight for me; all my life he’s been this way. I hate that I’m not strong enough to help him now when he needs it the most. I'm so worthless.” her words began to shake, and toward the end, she choked down a sob. He watched the whites of her eyes fill with red, irritated from the tears and her squeezing her eyes shut to keep them in.

He lifted his arm, tucking the other under his pillow. Instinctively, she moved forward, pressing her forehead to his chest and curling her arms up in front of her to rest between. He held her to him, resting his chin on the top of her head, buried in her knotted hair. Her cries ran through her entire body, and he held her tighter to his chest in an attempt to ease the tremors. It seemed his instinct to hug was right. She needed this. 

Fuck, he needed the embrace too,  just to feel someone alive against him.

“Y/N, you’re not worthless. You give your brother hope and motivation just by being with him. He loves you, and wants to live another day so he can see his sister again. You know that,” he said soothingly, although he felt a tickle at the back of his throat, pain lurking up. “Besides, what would I do without you? I need you.”

“No one needs me, Hitoshi. Nobody,” she sobbed. How could she believe that? Both of the boys had saved her life multiple times, yet she had done nothing for them. “I’m just a background character. I’m nothing.”

He tilted his head down, his lips just skimming her hair. “You’re the only friend I have. You’re the first person who made me realize I could be a hero, that I wasn’t just a villain. Do you think that’s nothing? ” he muttered, “To me, you’re the main character. You’re all I care about and the only person I ever want to be with.” 

“Hitoshi, you fucking idiot,’ she cried. He felt her hands grab handfuls of his shirt, clenching her fists so tightly her knuckles must have turned white. “Why do you care so much about me?”

He lied. 

“It’s because you’re my best friend.”

It’s because I’m falling in love with you.

“I never want to lose you, Hitoshi. Promise me, you won’t leave me, promise,” Y/N begged, practically demanding him to give her that little push of assurance. She needed someone’s words to keep her going, to know it was okay.

“I promise.” 

It seemed like, when he was with her, he made more promise than he ever had in his life. Shinsou never believed in making promises because he never really intended on keeping them, so he avoided them. Yet, he wanted to make promises to her. He wanted her to trust him, and find comfort in his word. 

In this world, you can’t predict when you’ll die or how long you’ll live, but as long as he could, he would stay with her. 

He danced around their friendship. It always felt like he would make a mistake and reveal how he really felt about her. He loved their friendship, cherished it with all his heart. But that didn’t stop him from feeling something much more intense. He didn’t know for sure how he felt, only he was attached. Maybe he was falling for her. It could have been a crush. 

All he knew was that those feelings were real.

She lifted her head from his chest, and he pulled back to look down at her. She was puffy in the eyes and her cheeks stained with tears. He lifted his hand, gently bringing his thumb to rub against her cheek, pushing away the salty tears. His hand stayed there, fingers sliding against her skin so softly, almost ghostly. 

Goosebumps rose up on her arms at the subtle touch, and her heart beat faster. His hand stopped moving to rest on the side of her face, fingers tucked back by her neck. He was so warm, and she leant into him. Her eyes met his dark violet ones ridden with deep bags from lack of sleep. Still, he was handsome, so perfect in her eyes. His face moved closer to hers, and her eyes flickered down to his lips. Her eyes shut, moving ever so slowly closer to him.

A loud chime rang out from her back pocket. Startled, she jumped away from him, her hand flying to her pocket to grab her phone and shut it up. It was probably just a spam call anyway. 

Katsuki.

She sighed, sitting up on the mattress and swinging her legs over the edge. She turned back to the boy, but was unable to make eye contact. He laid there with his forearm resting over his eyes, not looking at her either. “Shinsou...I-I’m sorry but I have to take this. I’ll see you tomorrow in class, okay?”

“Yeah, no problem. I'll see you tomorrow then.”

“See you,” she said quietly as she walked out the door, answering the phone as she did so.

Once the door was closed, he let out a load groan, turning on his side and curling up around one of his pillows. What the fuck was that? Were they about to kiss or was that just his imagination? Why did Bakugo have to call at that very moment? He couldn’t have waited, like, another 10 seconds?

He felt so good, having her pressed against him, to hear her telling him she needs him, to hold her face in his hands. She was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen, he was sure of it now. Even while she cried, she still looked perfect to him, like an angel came to Earth just for him. Maybe she was an angel after all. No other girl as wonderful as her would take interest in him. She was here to save him, bring him hope and love and make him feel something while he was alive for however long. He always longed to feel anything other than guilt and anger and sadness. 

And his angel had brought that to him.

_________________________________

Y/N had gone out to the corner store for some snacks that afternoon instead of training, so he proceeded to sit and study. His quirk wasn’t really the best to practice alone, for obvious reasons. In the courtyard outside, he sat with his heavy books, math problems flashing in his mind. 

He was smart, so this kind of thing was never an issue for him. For Y/N, though, they had to work on that. She despised mathematics with a passion to the point where he would have to bribe her just to get her to do her homework. It was sad, but quite humorous for Shinsou. 

“Yo, loser.”

He lifted his head at the voice, his eyes trailing up to see Bakugo, slouched over in his messy uniform. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah, actually, you can.”

Shinsou prayed that there would be no violence here. But with how her brother was, it could go crazy really fast. It wasn't that he was afraid of Bakugo at all, in fact, Shinsou knew with his quirk he would win a fight. It would just make Y/N upset.  

He set down his pencil and moved over on the bench to make room for the blond, who hunkered down beside him. He didn’t take his hands out of his pockets, and didn’t move to make eye contact.

"Well what do you want?"

He shifted, practically itching to walk away. Still he persisted. "Y/N talks about you so fucking much, you know," he finally grumbled. "Shinsou this. Shinsou that. Seriously it's annoying "

Part of the purple haired boy was flattered and frankly excited. She talked about him to her family? He was sure it was all good things of course, but to know that he occupied her mind when he wasn't around? It was amazing. 

To be honest, he thought about her more than you normally would with just a friend. Her smile, her laugh, her voice. All of it just ran through his mind all hours of the day. 

"Ah, okay."

"Listen, I'm definitely not here to be your friend, fuck that. You're a creepy ass dude." As usual, rude as hell with no filter whatsoever. Typical. "It's just that I feel like I should...ugh, thank you."

"Huh, never thought I'd hear that come from you, Bakugo," Shinsou replied with a smirk.

"Shut it." He paused, leaning back to stare up at the sky. "Y/N hasn't ever really had a friend, not one that was good to her at least. You're the first person to really bring her out of her shell. She's a hard-core introvert, I guess."

"Don't thank me. I'm not doing anything I don't want to."

"I know. It’s just that when I convinced her to come to U.A., she thought she would be all alone, you know, bullied and shit like before. I'm just glad someone's been there for her."

"I really can't see why people would bully her. She's kind and beautiful and smart."

"Yeah, right, I know. People just like to pick on little girls." Bakugo sighed, clenching using fists in his pockets. "I've just gotten so busy recently with everything, I haven't had the time to be her brother. You've watched out for her instead."

"She doesn't even need someone to watch out for her. She's not a baby, she's strong enough to handle herself now," Shinsou replied. "We all have our moment of weakness."

"Y/N told mom about how you got rid of that thug the day I was sick. Can't believe it," he muttered. "Nothing happened, but I swear if you weren't there and something did,  I would’ve kicked some major ass. So thanks for that too."

"Like I said, you shouldn't thank me. It's just the right thing to do."

"Yeah, but you aren't just doing it out of the kindness of your heart, Y/N isn't a damn charity.” His face lightened for a moment, the scowl softening into a grimace. "You love her, any dumbass can tell. I'm not sure if she feels the same way, but, shit…I’ve just never seen her happier than when she’s hanging out with you."

Shinsou said nothing. What was there to say? Bakugo was right. He did love her. Maybe for a while he thought it was just a crush, but it wasn't. Sure, if that criminal were harassing anyone else, he would do the same thing for them. Only, he wasn't sure he would turn around from his walk home to make sure they were safe. He wouldn't let just anyone come into his room at any hour of the night for hugs and cuddles, or a shoulder to cry on. That just wasn't him. 

So he felt comfortable being confronted with the fact. Because it was real. He really loved her, and he would never deny it.

"I've got a bad feeling, loser. A really bad feeling something is gonna happen to me. You have to be there for Y/N when it does. Swear to me," Bakugo commanded, turning to stare the other boy in the eyes. They weren't friends, it was true. In fact, Shinsou didn't like the guy one bit. But he could feel the pain and hopelessness in his voice, guilt that he might not be there anymore. 

And so, he felt himself making another promise for her.

He nodded. "Yeah, I swear. I'd never let anything happen to her."

"Good. Glad to know there's somebody else out here in this shitty world that loves her."

"Me, too."

Part Three is up as well so check that out.

Taglist: @vicisbookishblog  @annepamgkrth @smellslikenonsense

[funkzpiel]

I feel like at some point on the road, Jaskier would have been like, 'I thought Witchers didn't need to eat as much as ordinary folks,' and Geralt would have been like, 'Well, we can starve for a lot longer,' and Jaskier would have been kind of irrationally angry about it for a while.

More Geralt whump? Fuck yes. Thank you for the prompt, I love it.

Jaskier didn’t notice – not at first, not for a long time. Despite his frequent travels with the white wolf of Rivia, he had never even thought to ask. Something entirely unexpected for a man as chatty as himself and it would not be the first or last time Jaskier kicked himself for not noticing. He had always assumed that witchers had very slow metabolisms or some other strange mutation that allowed them to better digest and absorb nutrients and make the benefits of meals last longer. After all, Geralt rarely ate.

Perhaps ‘rarely’ was too strong a word, Jaskier admitted, but even so he could remember just as many instances in which Geralt didn’t eat as he did.

But it wasn’t until he found himself sharing a fire with the man one night that the question finally came to him. It had been a long ride with few breaks; a ride that had immediately devolved into a fierce fight with a creature Geralt had been contracted to handle, quickly followed by another rough ride when the blasted thing had managed to fly away, wounded and bleeding. Thankfully it had left quite a trial to follow, low as it had been flying and bleeding as it had been – but it meant that the two of them were running off of fumes and Jaskier, for one, was unused to it.

Well, no. Not unused to it. He had known hunger in his younger days, back when he had first left Oxenfurt to start his travels as a bard. Fame did not come without its prices – unless one had a very generous benefactor to start with, of course. And the price had been crude, cruel and simple: play for free, get his name out there, and starve until his music had the hearts of enough folk tied around his fingers that he might then play for pay. He wasn’t always hungry, of course. There had been more than one maid or village lass who had taken pity on him, in love with his blue eyes and silver tongue in that way young ladies – bored with village life – tended to sometimes be. But he had known hunger and cold.

Even though the years had been long since those meager days, even now he could not help but think ‘I remember worse hunger pains’. That didn’t mean he enjoyed it though. And if Jaskier was good at anything – singing and writing and general charisma aside – it was whining and surviving.

He plucked the fluffiest bits of his bread from within the hardened crust of the loaf he had in his pack and moaned as that first tuff nearly melted in his mouth – too stale from riding to be properly soft, but hunger had blurred that line of reasoning into something far more fantastical and pleased.

“Gods above, I love bread,” Jaskier all but moaned, slumping on his log as if the taste alone had rendered him useless. He fluttered his lashes. Geralt grunted.

“Come now, Geralt. Even you with all your witcherly stoicism can’t deny that there’s nothing quite as good as bread after days of starving,” Jaskier pointedly out, plucking another chunk of bread and placing it on his tongue with another lewd moan – now purposefully so.

Geralt rolled his eyes, face canted down toward the fire as he stoked it with a stick, ensuring that the logs lay just right for the best flame. Jaskier continued on, too merry from his meal to stay his tongue.

“Food’s always best when drunk or starving,” he mused.

He remembered lectures about that, at some point in Oxenfurt. His studies, while fundamentally focused around literature in general, had varied. A good writer needed to know a little of everything, after all, and he was nothing if not thorough when it came to his craft. He could still remember an old bore of a professor going on and on about a human’s instinct to survive and that, when starving, food was often times described by patients to be far richer or more delicious than normal – even if that food was in fact bland or stale or generally something the patient might detest in regular circumstances. The body recognizes the necessity of eating, numbs the mind of any factors that might keep them from eating, and therefore everything tastes as if it had been delivered from the heavens themselves.

“Agreed,” Geralt said, setting his stick aside to stand. Jaskier watched him with childish passivity as the witcher went to Roach, filled a feed harness with grain or whatever it was he tended to give the ol’girl, and went about attaching it to her head so she might eat – obviously reminded of the task by their conversation. Then he attended to Jaskier’s horse as well, Daisy. That made something fond prickle in Jaskier’s chest.

“It’s stale and I don’t even care,” Jaskier continued to babble, breaking the hard crust off piece by piece now as he continued to consume his meal. Geralt grunted again, crouched by his pack again, and despite Jaskier’s assumption that the man was now finally fetching his own meal, the witcher instead returned to his place at the fire with his sword, a rag and some oils – and surprisingly no whet stone.

Jaskier rose his brows.

“Really, Geralt? I know you witchers have a frankly unhealthy relationship with your swords, but it can wait. Aren’t you hungry? Tired?”

Amber eyes met his overtop the brilliant flames of their fire. They seemed paler somehow, but the fire made it quickly difficult to hold the man’s gaze; even moreso to make out fine details. Otherwise Jaskier might have seen the hollows of Geralt’s cheeks beneath his riding stubble, or the dark circles that had made a home of the space beneath his eyes. Might have noticed he was paler than usual.

But he didn’t.

“Hmm,” Geralt said, eyes dropping back to his sword as he oiled his rag and began the lengthy process of cleaning it with the meticulousness of a witcher.

That gave Jaskier pause. He had seen the man fight. Geralt had described the Churt as a young adult, even though Jaskier couldn’t have imagined a larger Churt in his life. The point being: the Churt had been no babe, and while Geralt was a witcher of immeasurable skill, the beast had done its fair share of harm in turn. With the bend of its wing it had struck such a blow on Geralt’s right shoulder blade that it had tossed the witcher across a small clearing and into a try. Jaskier hadn’t imagined the wet pop he had heard at the time, nor had he imagined the gash the thing had landed on Geralt’s thigh and hip when it swooped down from above, talons first.

Geralt had excused himself to wash the worst of the fight off in a river, leaving Jaskier to settle Roach and start the process of picking up flammable tinder for the fire – something that once upon a time, he never would have trusted the bard to do. It made a little bloom of warmth grow in his chest at the thought even as dread slowly but surely began to curl in his gut.

He hadn’t seen Geralt take any salves or wrappings to the river. And if Jaskier was tired from riding without food, he could only imagine how ravenous he might feel after riding and slaying a Churt on just as empty a stomach.

“Geralt, come on,” he repeated, the cheer he had felt from his bread now weak in his tone. “You should really eat something.”

“M’fine,” the man said, focused on his task.

Jaskier felt his brows pucker into the slightest frown and not for the first time cursed Geralt for the wrinkles he would no doubt get because of the stubborn witcher and his stupid concepts of logic and reason – aka, his utter lack of either when it came to simple matters of health, wellbeing and general comfort.

Witchers, honestly.

But not for the first time Jaskier tried to quell his sharp tongue if, for no other reason, because he himself was not a witcher and sometimes they were able to do extraordinary things due to their mutations. He tried to keep his tone light as he asked, “Are witchers able to digest their food more slowly or something?”

Geralt snorted, but under the crackle of the fire Jasker could not tell if it was the white wolf’s attempt at a chuckle or not. Jaskier plucked another bit of bread from his loaf, stuck it in his mouth and looked at the witcher pointedly – expecting a real answer.

Geralt grunted, cleared his throat in a manner Jaskier might describe as ‘uncomfortable’ in witcher-speak – a tongue of body language rather than words – and when it became obvious Jaskier would not fill the silence for him or move on, surprisingly answered.

“In a manner,” he admitted.

“In a manner,” Jaskier repeated theatrically, as if this in fact explained all the secrets of the universe, and nodded his head sagely, “Ever a man of many words you are, Geralt. In what manner?”

Geralt blew a breath through his nose in a heavy huff, his eyes darting up in that way he did whenever he was gauging whether or not something was worth sharing with Jaskier. It appeared his distate for being badgered outweighed his dislike of talking about himself, because he kept his eyes pointedly down on his sword as he said, “Mutations.”

“Ah. I see.”

Amber eyes darted to him for a fraction of a moment – almost, dare Jaskier say, nervous; but he couldn’t be certain with the firelight. No, not nervous exactly… but without a doubt Geralt was anticipating something. Bracing himself, one might say.

His sword was already positively gleaming, but the man continued to focus on it as if it were rusted. When Jaskier threw a stick at him, staring at him pointedly, mouth full of bread, Geralt sighed – haughty and on edge.

“Witchers,” he said slowly, drawing it out as if unsure of how to proceed, “Adapt easily. Our bodies can speed or slow our metabolisms as needed.”

The bread in his hands felt suddenly too rough, too heavy. He had a terrible, awful feeling he knew where this explanation was headed, but he needed to hear it. Needed to know for sure.

“Geralt,” he said just as slowly if only to show Geralt that any cheerful playfulness in him had passed and that there was no escaping this conversation now. “What precisely are you trying to tell me? That you have an on-off lever for your hunger?”

Geralt blew out a breath through his teeth that stirred his messy silver hair. It was like pulling teeth, Jaskier thought, frustrated.

“We can starve a long time before it becomes a problem,” he finally said, clinical and blunt, as if he had said something mundane like ‘witchers are more flexible than most’ rather than ‘I can suffer starvation longer than mortal men before I’ll ever die’.

“Geralt,” Jaskier snapped, unsure of what he was even trying to say. The word had slipped past his teeth in a snap, unfettered and unabashed and wholly horrified. Geralt might have flinched, it was hard to tell past the fire, and finally Jaskier had had enough of the man’s cowering. He stood and rounded the fire – loomed over the witcher – and saw the nearly feral glint of the man’s eyes as he pointedly did not look at him. Eventually, words returned to him. “Tell me this is some utterly terrible version of a witcher joke. Humor really does not suit you, you know.”

“Sure, it’s a joke,” Geralt deadpanned, something tight about the way he held his shoulders.

“Geralt!”

“What?” He finally snapped, the word nearly a hushed snarl when his eyes finally darted up to meet Jaskier’s and finally – finally – he saw it. Geralt was thin. It showed in his face, scant of even so much fat as to fill his cheeks, and from this angle the fire cast dreadful shadows in those hunger hollows.

Gods above, his gear. That’s why he hadn’t noticed, at least not yet. They had not exactly found a tavern in some time – sleeping outdoors provided little opportunity to disrobe or enjoy one another’s company in comfort. He had thought it surprising that Geralt had kept his armor on for more, if not all, of the trip. Now he knew – it was just as much a cover as the fire had been.

“Take it off,” Jaskier said.

Geralt blinked slowly, caught off guard. Slow from hunger, Jaskier realized. Something no doubt made worse by the witcher’s difficult relationship with sleep.

“What? No.”

“Geralt.”

“I already did it.”

He meant his wounds, Jaskier realized, and for some reason that made him angry.

“Another lie!” Jaskier said in an explosion of hand movement, too wound up to settle his tendency toward the theatrical as he gestured at Geralt’s shoulders – at the way he was obviously favoring one side over the other, and continued, “I saw you go to the river. You didn’t bring a single salve with you!”

Geralt rolled his eyes – not so much a dramatic gesture as it was a minute flutter of his lashes – and said, “I’m a witcher, Jaskier. It’s fine.”

He had heard the story before. Witcher, in Geralt’s mind, appeared to be synonymous with ‘immune’. But even so, the man was generally good about salving and bandaging himself. His body was, after all, his greatest tool. And yet he hadn’t this time.

“You don’t have any food, do you?” He finally accused, catching on, “Or salves? Gods above, Geralt, why did you take this contract without those things!”

“Because I needed the contract to buy those things,” Geralt said through his teeth, nearly baring them like his namesake might.

It was an argument that was quickly going nowhere, and Jaskier could not exactly pin point why exactly there was a kernel of fury growing in his stomach, searing him from the inside out in a rising tide. Instead he just made an utterly exasperated sound at Geralt, took a step forward – ignoring the tension that bloomed in Geralt’s body in reaction – and shoved the rest of his bread into the man’s hands before stomping off to his pack with a frustrated, “Why didn’t you say you utter oaf!”

Geralt’s brows shot up.

“Jaskier, I can’t,” he said, eyes on the man as he held the bread loosely, his rag haven fallen to the ground. “This is yours.”

“And now it’s yours, you bloody idiot of a witcher,” Jaskier said back just as quickly, his tone almost lilting as he fell back into the comfort of jesting words to hide the anger in his gut that made him want to – he didn’t even know! Kick a tree, maybe? Punch a man? Tie Geralt down until he understood how to better take care of himself? Yes, that one. He busied himself with digging through his own pack on Daisy. His horse whickered at him cheerfully as he shuffled things around. He found another chunk of bread – this one smaller but better than nothing. He also pulled out a tin of cured meat he kept for emergencies, as well as a leather wrapped kit – crude at best – of what scant medical supplies he had come to find necessary during his trips with Geralt. Bandages, cheap salves, thread and needles. He turned back to Geralt, his findings in either hand, and nearly barked out a laugh at the sight of the witchere. The man had never looked more uncomfortable or out of his element, staring at him like Jaskier were a lion that might make of a meal of him rather than a wispy bard with bread, meat and medical items.

“You look as if I’ve revealed myself to be another Churt in disguise,” Jaskier said, coming closer now. Geralt moved, perhaps to stand, to flee, but not quickly enough – and that, in and of itself – convicted Jaskier on his path even more. He pressed a hand onto Geralt’s knee, cautious of where he thought the man’s wounds might be, and urged him back down onto the log as he took a seat beside him.

“Surely you’ve been without coin before,” Jaskier said as he delicately places the second loaf onto the cleanest bit of bark that he could manage, then the tin and medical supplies. Geralt looked like a cornered dog but Jaskier just kept talking, as if his babbling might ease the witcher into some modicum of familiarity and comfort. “I’ve seen you hunt. So why not hunt?”

He asked even as he knew why. Geralt had already hinted at it. With a metabolism that sped and slowed as needed, it meant that his body had burned most of its energy in the fight. Now it was slowing again, drawing the warmth from his skin as his heart beat dropped to an almost unnatural rhythm. Hunting took time and energy. It meant Geralt was now in league with most wild predators – better to wait for an ample opportunity that promised success than to blindly waste it looking for an animal in the woods at night. Better to bide his time, even if that meant a gnawing stomach.

“No point right now,” Geralt said, confirming his suspicions. It was strange to simultaneously see the man as a predator and yet realize that meant that, in this moment, he was vulnerable for the very same reason that he was dangerous.

“Right, of course,” Jaskier said idly, more focused on the task at hand now that he understood the problem, “Not to rush things along because I generally prefer to take my time disrobing my partners, but let’s go, Geralt. Eat your bread, off with your armor and such.”

Geralt stiffened, then held the husk back to him with a murmured, “It’s yours. I don’t need handouts. M’fine.”

The words ‘I’m used to this, it’s not a big deal’ went unsaid – and wisely so. Jaskier might’ve given him a motherly wallop for it. Instead he shoved the bread back toward Geralt with a quick, “Yeah, well, if it’s mine then that means I can do whatever I want with it. And I want you to eat it.”

That, in combination with hunger, seemed to finally cow the witcher into some semblance of obedience. He pulled a tuff of soft, white bread flesh from its stale husk and went about eating it with far less drama than Jaskier had. But the bard didn’t miss the way the witcher’s fingers nearly – nearly – trembled. For the first time he realized the problem might be far worse than a day or two without food. There was no telling how long the witcher had gone without before Jaskier had arrived to join him on his trek.

He realized with a start that he didn’t want to know. He didn’t want to know how long Geralt could go. He’d much rather focus on ensuring he didn’t ever go that long ever again.

Jaskier pressed into Geralt’s space with long arms and clever fingers, unfastening buckles and straps around Geralt as the witcher ate. He pulled off his chest armor and had to bite his tongue not to hiss. The witcher’s shoulder was a mass of purple – masked except for where it peaked out beneath the hem of his collar, but telling nonetheless. It’d heal, Geralt always did, but it didn’t mean the man needed to suffer while he did. He tugged at Geralt’s shirt, easing it over his head as he sighed, “For a man as adept and trained for survival as you are, Geralt, you’re an astoundingly huge idiot.”

“Wow, thanks,” Geralt mused, a chuckle blurred around the edges of the words, muffled as the shirt slipped over his head and—

Jaskier had to bury his teeth into his knuckles to avoid spitting out the first, dramatic invective that sprung to his tongue. But by Melitele’s tits, the man was deceptively built looking for a man as thin as he was at the moment. With his armor on he looked like a brick wall – tall, broad and built for tasks no normal man could handle. But beneath all that, even as muscled as he was, the truth remained that the white wolf was thin as a rail almost. He tried to remember the last time he had seen the witcher, the last time they had shared a room, shared each other’s company. He was a surprisingly lithe man for someone so accustomed to a job like witchering – but he hadn’t been this thin. He must have been decently fed, last he saw him, because now Jaskier could almost swear that if he had a hand on either side of Geralt’s hips, his fingers would nearly touch. An exaggeration, and yet, he didn’t want to try in case he was right. He could see every rung of Geralt’s ribs, every knob of his spine. His stomach curved inward, even the musculature of his abdomen less prominent that he remembered. And his hips; the way they jutted even while sitting…

Gods above, how long did he starve this time?

Even faced with so much suffering, Jaskier held his tongue firmly between his teeth until he was certain he would not badger the man. Geralt knew how thin he was. There was a reason why he had kept his armor on with Jaskier. He had known the bard would fret. He had tried to hide it. Hounding him now wouldn’t reverse the effects of Geralt’s stint with hunger – but it would drive the wolf away, keen as he was to avoid confrontation and care like a Labrador unwilling to be bathed.

“You put even my boyish figure to shame, Geralt. Going after my job, are we?” He joked because he couldn’t bare the silence. If it were silent for so much as a moment longer he’d babble. He’d babble, and that would devolve to nagging, and he needed the witcher to sit still, to trust him. To finally, finally allow someone to care for him despite his conceptions about what was or was not his, and how far he could push the limit of witcher mutations before he pushed too far. Geralt snorted, back shivering like a horse shoeing flies when Jaskier ran two fingers lightly over his bruising. It was swollen, puffy; hot to the touch. Dark as pitch, made worse by the flickering light of the fire. He opened one jar of salve, coated a few fingers liberally, then went about rubbing it into the man’s skin as gently as possible while still working it in to the muscle and damage before. Geralt moaned – Jaskier couldn’t tell if it were pain or relief, but he continued regardless.

“Hardly about to start singing in pubs,” Geralt mused, evidently just as eager to settle back into some semblance of normalcy. Unused to being the one being taken care of rather than doing the protecting. It rankled him something fierce, muscles tight under Jaskier’s hands.

“Yes, well, maybe you should consider it,” Jaskier said lightly, dipping his fingers back into the jar for more, “With a voice like yours, you’d be quite exotic for the trade. Women would swoon at your feet – if you can hold a tune, of course, very important. Pubs tend to feed their bards. Pay’s good, too. Better than…” he trailed off. It felt too raw, too cruel to take a shot at Geralt’s profession now when the wolf was so bare and vulnerable. Here Jaskier had taken his armor and his wrappings, both physical and metaphorically, and exposed the witcher for what he was: mortal, self-abused and exhausted. To go on felt like a moot point, like kicking a man while he’s down. It felt wrong to acknowledge once more that witchering was a thankless trade. Painful, even, when Jaskier knew Geralt risked his life often, protected thankless assholes that tried to fleece him often – and he starved himself to do it, too.

Geralt made a sound Jaskier couldn’t quite navigate.

“Eat the meat in the tin as well,” Jaskier guided the conversation away, tone light despite the way his breath hitched in his chest seeing Geralt like this.

“Jaskier, this isn’t necessary—”

Jaskier’s hands drew still on Geralt’s back. Something swollen twisted his chest and throat into something thin and strained as he said, “Please, Geralt… if for no other reason than to appease me. I may not have a witcher’s metabolism, but I’m tired as well.”

The tin squealed lightly when Geralt opened it. The same of dried pork wafted up lightly – stronger when Geralt took a slice and held it over his shoulder with a gruff, “At least eat some, too.”

Jaskier would have laughed if the whole situation wasn’t so fucked up. Instead he just hummed a pleased, “How thoughtful,” and took the morsel directly from Geralt’s fingers with his mouth, unwilling to touch it with his salve-greasy fingers. Geralt was more comfortable with that gesture than being taken care of, and Jaskier decided then and there that he’d have to work on that.

Geralt ate the jerky and Jaskier sent a quick halfhearted prayer of thanks to the gods on the off chance they were real even though he was pretty sure they weren’t and mainly enjoyed referencing them for how colorful they made his curses. Once the worst of Geralt’s shoulder was handled, he ran a hand over the rungs of his ribs down to the – sharp, too sharp – jut of his hip and asked, “Did you actually attend to those gashes or do I need to strip you completely?”

“They were shallow enough. Nearly healed,” Geralt grunted around a strip of meat. Jaskier looked at him pointedly, brows raised, and Geralt offered a grumbly, “Truly. It’s fine.”

Jaskier waited another beat for added affect before capping the jar with a soft, “Alright, Geralt. I trust you. But if they’re not gone in the morning, please put salve on them?”

Geralt grunted at that, and Jaskier took that as a sign of victory.

Much of the tension had eased from Geralt’s shoulders now, but there was still a great deal of exhaustion under his eyes and in the shadows of his cheeks. Jaskier wiped his hands clean on a rag, watching the witcher eat with a strange fondness in his gut he couldn’t quite name. He was unused to this, he realized. Not just with Geralt, but in general. In brothels or taverns or even with the witcher, his relationships had been centered around passion and drive. The need to fulfill his desires with lips and fingers and teeth. He had shared meals and treats after with maidens and men alike, of course, and had even himself been cared for some. But had never really done the caring himself and mostly certainly not in a context as benign as this. He had never felt the urge to. No one ever stuck around, after all, and both parties were only ever fulfilling the same selfish desires only…

This was difficult. Geralt was different. Jaskier wanted to help. They wouldn’t lay together, not tonight. There was no ulterior motive, no benefit other than… Well, other than Geralt’s comfort and safety. Jaskier’s hands stilled in his rag, gaze caught a bit wide-eyed on the snacking witcher when suddenly Geralt’s own amber eyes lazily caught his, no longer as edgey as he had been.

“What?” The witcher asked, the idiot.

“Nothing,” Jaskier chirped quickly, eager to cover the sudden revelation before he had time to properly turn it over in his mind and understand it. He tossed the rag at his pack and for once he was the one avoiding the witcher’s gaze as he said, “I was merely thinking about how lucky you are to have such a handsome and selfless friend such as me. Talented, charming and capable in the woods – you were born beneath a lucky star to have met me. What would you do without me?”

Geralt snorted again and that, Jaskier could tell, was a laugh. He grinned in return, back on familiar footing, and came to sit thigh to thigh with his witcher. Geralt hummed, curiously close to a cat’s purr, and Jaskier had the oddest urge to run his fingers through the man’s hair just to hear more of that sound.

“Starve a little longer, I suppose,” Geralt said, playfulness dulled by the truth in it. Blunt, daft ass of a man. Jaskier stretched his legs before him, forced himself not to go off on another tirade unless the witcher – too used to doing things only on his own terms – shut down after all the work the bard had done to loosen him up that evening.

“Yes, well, from now on what’s mine is yours, Geralt. I’ll pack accordingly.”

Geralt stilled.

“—Jaskier, you needn’t trouble—”

“If you’re starving you can hardly protect me or perform those heroic acts of inhuman deeds I do so love to sing and profit off of, can you? Consider it your cut in the fame you’ve brought me with your witchering,” Jaskier said cheekily, eager to cover his own vulnerabilities like the coward and hypocrite that he was. Something stole across Geralt’s face, something unidentifiable, and Jaskier felt his gut curl ever so slightly.

“Of course,” Geralt said. Jaskier felt the slightest bit of distance grow between them suddenly, their comradery turning the littlest bit stale. Guilt stabbed him lightly. The fire crackled. “That is why you come, isn’t it.”

It almost… almost seemed as though Geralt was disappointed by that – mildly, as witchers tended to be, and yet more poignantly because of that.

Well… he had stripped Geralt of his manly pride, his clothing and his illusions of not being a twig. The least Jaskier could do was offer some boon in turn. Even the playing field, so to speak.

He sucked in a breath, let it go slowly, catching Geralt’s attention because of it.

“It started that way, yes. Though not wholly for the stories or the songs… But now… Geralt, I would follow you even if there were no story to sing about in some pub,” he admitted. “If one of our trips just comprised of us dozing under willows by the river, I’d join you. I’d keep the songs just for myself. Sing them to you. Maybe it’d help you sleep.”

Geralt watched him for a long time. Jaskier began to fidget, his neck burning and no doubt red as the silence made his words sound more and more ridiculous. He was just about to say, ‘forget it, I’m just daft with exhaustion, you know how it goes,’ when finally, Geralt spoke.

“What would you sing about then,” Geralt asked slowly, carefully, “If not about whatever I killed?”

Geralt was staring at him, his face a blank sheet, and Jaskier felt prickly all of sudden, frustrated that the witcher could so easily hide while he was weak to expressing himself at the drop of a hat. But the moment felt important to Geralt regardless, somehow the bard could just tell. Perhaps it was his increasing fluency in the wordless speak of witchers. The worst of that dazed, hollow hunger-glaze had retreated from those amber eyes. Still there around the edges, but otherwise focused on him in a manner Geralt rarely allowed himself to do.

“I’d have plenty to sing about,” Jaskier said softly, his protective, charming mannerisms falling away layer by layer under those eyes. “I’d love nothing more than to sing about the white wolf finally enjoying himself for a moment – even if that moment were as benign as enjoying an apple freshly plucked from the tree. Even if it detailed only the litany of your snoring or the way the wind dances in your ridiculously white hair.”

Geralt snorted, a wry twist of amusement to his lips as he looked out into the night and said, “Enough. I’m not one of your conquests from some backwater village or high court function. Stop blowing smoke up my ass.”

He should joke. It was his cue to joke. Geralt was offering him an out. He should joke.

“I could sing even about this,” he said instead, his eyes traveling to the dark bloom on Geralt’s back – proof of his mortality despite the legends Jaskier had hand in crafting.

“Some song that would be,” Geralt grunted, “No one wants to hear about a half-starved witcher. Sour the mood immediately.”

“Don’t be so shallow, you’re cleverer than that,” Jaskier chided.

“I’m daft, I’m clever – which is it?”

“Believe me, the contradiction frustrates the hell out of me too, witcher,” Jaskier chuckled, the littlest bit of a frustrated grumble in the tone as he leaned in, crowding the man. “But I stand by it. Perhaps that should be the next song I sing: how to take care of your witcher. Help some other fool bard out there who also fell head over heels for their witcher.”

“Your witcher?” Geralt asked, brows raised.

“Ears like yours, I know you heard me, Geralt. A mouse farts and you wake up. Don’t play coy with me.”

Geralt actually let out a soft huff of a laugh at that.

“How to care for your witcher… you think you know how?” He mused, too weary to fight or snap, it would seem – made soft by the salve and Jaskier’s hands. Steadier than the witcher from those early days, so skittish and closed off.

“You’re still here, aren’t you?” Jaskier said, puffing up, proud. Geralt shook his head, exasperated, and Jaskier pressed, “I’ll start with feeding you properly, since you can’t be trusted to make sane choices. And anything after that, well… I’ll learn as I go!”

And that was as close to saying ‘I love you’ as he could get for now. The witcher too easily spooked, and he himself unfamiliar with this version of himself that loved beyond the first fuck. It wasn’t ‘I love you’, not yet. But if the witcher could show him his wounds, trust him with his back, well…

They were both learning as they went.

[breakyeol]

table tops

drabble

┗ pairing: baekhyun x reader

warnings: baek gets shit faced

a/n; baekhyun seems like the kind of guy to get wasted and start dancing on tables

Okay. Where the fuck did Baekhyun go.

If there was one thing you did not want to lose at a party– it was Byun Baekhyun. And of course that was exactly what your dumb ass had to go and do.

Your eyes widened in horror upon realizing that your boyfriend of two years was no longer at your side, the space he’d previously filled completely vacant. You legit been there for five minutes, how did you already manage to lose him?

“Oh god.” You murmured, eyes frantically swinging across the room as you helplessly tried to spot him. But the dim blue and red lighting combined with the dense population of the living room you were currently standing in made that almost impossible.

You’d been talking to him not moments ago. How the hell did he just vanish into thin air?

“Chanyeol!”

You spotted the six foot something giant through the crowd, and pushed your way towards him. At the sound of his name, he spun around, a bright smile immediately taking over his slightly flushed features when he spotted you.

“Y/n! Hey! What’s up?” His voice seemed ten times louder than usual as he greeted you, trying to be heard over the ridiculously loud music, “thought you said you wouldn’t be able to make it!”

Disregarding his questions, you got straight to the point. “Have you seen Baekhyun?”

“What?” He dipped his head down, brows furrowed as he leaned closer to you. Damn him and his tall ass, always making it so hard to communicate. You pushed yourself onto your toes, trying to get closer to his endearingly large ear.

“Baekhyun! Have you seen Baekhyun? I can’t find him!”

His expression brightened as he understood, nodding quickly as he drew back slightly. “Oh! Yeah, I thought I saw him go into the kitchen a little bit ago! Maybe he’s still in there?”

Damnit.

“Okay, thanks, Yeol!” You didn’t wait for his response before whipping around and shoving your way through the mass of bodies obstructing your path to the kitchen. But upon your arrival, you were only met with disappointment. He wasn’t there. However, you were surprised to see another familiar face.

“Kyungsoo?”

He lowered the drink he’d been sipping, nodding at you in greeting, “hey, y/n.”

“Did Baekhyun come through here?”

He nodded, “yes.”

Your eyes nervously flashed over to the arrangement of alcoholic beverages and plastic red solo cups lined up across the counter beside him. “He didn’t drink anything, did he?”

“He did.”

Fuck.

“How much?”

He paused, and your eyes widened in disbelief as he began counting on his fingers, one unfolding after the other. “Five shots, I believe.”

Jesus Christ.

“And you didn’t think to try and stop him?” You questioned, running your hand over your face as you tried to think over what your most likely drunk boyfriend could possibly be doing at that moment.

Kyungsoo shrugged. “No.”

“Why?” The exasperation your voice had a subtle grin of amusement upturning the corners of his lips.

“I was hoping he’d pass out if he drank enough and stop talking to me.”

You couldn’t say you didn’t understand where he was coming from. But still, a drink Baekhyun equaled an exhausted y/n. He was difficult enough to hand sober, but when alcohol hit his system— you were in for a wild ride.

“Well, did you at least see where he went?”

He shrugged again, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the living room as he took another steady sip of his drink.

“You are so very helpful, Kyungsoo.” You gritted sarcastically through a tight lipped smile. He shot you a playful wink, clicking his tongue as he raised his glass. You politely flipped him the bird before swiftly making your way back into the living room, his deep, velvety laugh following after you.

“Y/n!”

You whirled around at the sound of your name, eyes widening in shock at the sight of Chanyeol rushing at you like an angry bull. Instinctively you recoiled, both shock and amazed by the speed and swiftness he exerted while he forced his large body through the thick crowd. The moment he reached you, he latched onto your wrist and began yanking you back in the direction he’d come from, not giving you some much as a moment to process what was happening.

“Where are we going?! What happened?!” You tried to shout over the music, but he either didn’t hear you or consciously chose to ignore you. Regardless— you’d get your answer soon enough. He tugged you into the dining room, where a large crowd had formed around something. They were cheering loudly, especially girls you noticed. “What’s going on?” You asked, almost slamming face first into his broad back when he suddenly stopped in front of you.

“I found your boyfriend.”

You immediately perked at that, jumping up to eagerly scan the faces of the people around you. “What?! Where?! I don’t see—”

And then you saw him.

“Oh you have got to be kidding me.”

You had to blink a few times to just be sure you weren’t hallucinating. There was no alcohol in your system to blame either as you hadn’t had the opportunity to even take so much as a sip of your drink, too worried about finding where your boyfriend had disappeared off to.

Turns out, he’d been the life of the party.

You couldn’t say that you were surprised.

All you could do was watch, wide eyed, mouth gaping, as your boyfriend danced like the little hoe he is on a large round table to the song Come Get Her. He looked like he was having the time of his damn life, hands raised high in the air, shaking his cute ass side to side as he laughed loudly.

He was visibly drunk, cheeks flushed a hot shade of red, pupils blown as he grinned widely. He’d discarded the jacket he’d been donning onto a nearby chair, leaving him in his thin white button up and black ripped jeans. And it seemed he’d popped a few buttons of his top open to put a little extra skin on display.

It was obvious he was eating up all the attention he was getting, putting a little extra oomf into his dancing whenever the mob of onlookers gave out particularly loud shouts of encouragement. He was blowing kisses, swinging his hips, and whipping his head around like he didn’t have a single care in the world.

“Not again,” you whined distraughtly, stomping your feet like a child having a temper tantrum.

Chanyeol snickered beside you, gently hip checking you. “Better get your mans before somebody else does.” You huffed at his teasing tone, pushing past him to the very front of the group so that you could get his attention.

“Baekhyun!” You hissed, glaring up at him as he twirled around, sexily (yet goofily) running his hands down his body. “Byun Baekhyun!”

He paused, a look of confusion briefly crossing his features before his hazy eyes met yours, and a wide grin exploded across his face. “Y/n!” He gasped excitedly, before wildly gesturing for you to come closer, “baby, come dance with me!”

Yeah right.

“Baekhyun, come down right now.” Each word was enunciated very clearly through your gritted teeth.

He was quick to express his dislike of the idea, head shaking back and forth madly as he started up his movements again, “No, come dance! It’s fun!”

“Baekhyun—” the warning in your voice was explicit, but he was having none of it.

“If you won’t join me, then just sit back and enjoy the show,” your eyes widened as you shot you a wink. You supposed it was meant to be sexy, but it looked more like a spasm than anything else. Regardless, what he did next had you choking on air.

He gave a sharp tug at either side of his shirt. The buttons immediately gave, a few even breaking off and hitting the table top with light taps. Shouts and cheers of encouragement vibrated in the sweat scented air at the sight of your boyfriends bare torso.

Possessiveness ripped through you unexpectedly as you spotted a group of girls drooling over him, and before you could fully wrap your head around the situation, you were rushing towards the table and trying helplessly to pull his shirt, now hanging uselessly off his shoulders, back over his sculpted stomach and chest. But, he was quick to bat your hands away, making a point to shrug his shirt almost completely off his arms.

“We can do this the hard way or the easy way, Baek,” you spat out his usually affectionate nickname, hands balling into fists at your sides, “Get off the table this instant.”

“Make me.”

Fine. Hard way it is.

He yelped in surprise as you suddenly wrapped your arms around his middle and gave a sharp yank. He immediately lost his balance, feet stumbling clumsily beneath him as he toppled forward. It took every ounce of your strength to keep him from flipping over your shoulder and face planting on the ground. Somehow, you managed not to fall over before his feet met the ground, his hands gripping tightly at your shoulders as he stared at you in shock. You were quite amazed yourself that your legs hadn’t given out under your combined weight.

“Y/n! I was having fun!” He whined in disappointment, though his body slumped against yours, arms slung lazily over your shoulders as his head rolled back. Whatever stability his body had been able to maintain despite the alcohol in his body was completely drained out by his little performance.

“We’re going home,” you declared with a tone of finality, ignoring his drunken complaints as you guided his wobbly form towards the exit.

“Noooo, let’s stay,” he drawled words slurring, head falling against your shoulder as you struggled to get the front door open, “I wanna dance~”

“You can dance as much as you want when we get home,” you compromised, adding softly, “watch the step,” as you helped him through the doorway and out into the night air.

“Will you dance with me?” He asked hopefully, bottom lip jutting out heavily as he offered you the best pair of puppy dog eyes he could possibly muster.

You felt the corners of your lips twist upwards at his ridiculously adorable expression, heart swooning in your chest. There are something you could never get used to. Even drunk out of his mind, those gorgeous eyes of his never failed to have your stomach flurry with butterflies.

“Maybe.”

That answer seemed to satisfy him enough as he ceased his complaining and resorted to rambling aimlessly about how cute your butt was and clinging to you like a koala as you guided him to your car. But, the idea of dancing the night away was out the window the moment his body came in contact with the comfortable leather of your passenger’s seat. He was out like a light by the time you rounded to the other side and slid into the driver’s seat, soft snores escaping his pink lips. You couldn’t help the grin of amusement that traced your lips. 

What a baby. 

Leaning over the console, you gently brushed his damp bangs off his forehead, pressing a soft kiss just between his brows. Even fast asleep, you caught the slightest hint of a smile teased at the corner of his lips as you drew away. 

But hey, he was your baby. 

[luhlust]

Lucky Charm A Kyo Sohma Fanfiction Part 2

Author’s Note: I AM SORRY FOR NOT BEING ABLE TO UPDATE THIS SKSKKS IT HAS DEFINITELY BEEN A LONG TIME BUT HERE YOU GO. 

Part 1

You crossed your arms at Kyo. “I’m going.” You stated staring deeply into his eyes. Apparently, Kyo is going out with Shigure today, where? Even he does not know which worried you even more. You don't really like getting separated from him, even if he ever labels you as bothersome (he never did though).

What if it happens to him too?

Kyo sighed, as much as he wanted to take you with him, Shigure said it was better if you didn't come. Just like you, he became accustomed to always having you tailing him wherever he go like a shadow. Kyo pat your head in attempt to calm you down. 

"Stay here (y/n), I won’t be gone too long, stupid.” You melted against his touch, it always comforted you whenever he pats your head. You really did dislike the thought of Kyo leaving , clingy yes you know, but Kyo knows why you're like this more than anyone do. "Fine...please be safe Kyo.”

You grabbed his hand and he tightened his grip around yours. “You worry too much geez.” Kyo blushed, looking away making you smile.

"What are you going to do without me." He flicked your forehead before heading out with Shigure. 

"Young love." Shigure teased, earning him a death glare from Kyo.

Your hands touched where Kyo had flicked you and sighed. "I wonder where Shigure is taking him? I want to go out too.” You said to yourself. 

“And where would you want to go?” Yuki chuckled upon seeing how flustered you were.

You were not expecting him to show up out of nowhere, well maybe if you had your eyesight you would have. He sat down next to you, tucking some of the loose strands of your hair behind your ears. 

"Don’t scare the blind Yuki.” You joked as Yuki started to brush your hair. Yuki seemed to notice how messy your hair looks.

He then offered, "May I fix your hair, (y/n)?” You nodded in response.

Yuki delicately stroke your hair, hoping it won't hurt you when he tries to get rid of the tangles. Other than Kyo, Yuki seemed to always look out for you too and you never knew why. "You know, you're kind of like my guardian angel." His eyes widened, that came out of the blue.

He then smiled as he tied your hair into a space bun. "Well, someone's got to keep an eye on you. You're troube-magnet."

"Trouble-magnet...I guess, I am one." Though Yuki never meant anything bad about it, you felt ashamed. You have always felt like a burden to the people around you especially to Kyo. Yuki seemed to have caught on your mood. "(y/n), I didn't mea-"

“Pretty...” You heard Tohru gasped. 

“Oh, Honda-san, what’s wrong?” Yuki questioned as Tohru smiled bashfully. “Lunch is ready.” She tugged on her apron making Yuki give her his signature princely-smile.

"How thoughtful of you, Honda-san." Yuki grabbed on your arm to aid you to the dinning room. "I can walk Yuki." You protested in which he ignored.

The sweet aroma of freshly-cooked meal lingered around the house. Even if you can't see what is served, your other senses know whatever is laid on the platter is divine.

Your sense of tongue did not fail to support this claim. "I haven't had anything this delicious in a while." Yuki is beyond shock to see how clean the kitchen is. "Me too. This feels like heaven." You complimented Tohru as well.

"Maybe, she's not as bad as I thought she'd be." You thought while continuing on eating. "Anyways, Shigure and that stupid cat hasn't come back yet. Where could they have gone?" You looked at the the time and saw 2 hours had passed.

Your hands began to tremble, several thoughts popped in your mind. "Could he have been hurt? Accident? God, please don't let anything happe-"

"(y/n), are you okay?" Tohru's questioned, interrupting your nasty thoughts. "I'm fine. What were we talking about?" You flashed them a grin, hoping they'd get the message to change the topic. "Oh, Sohma-kun's talked about his secret base! Have you been there?"

"Secret base? Isn't that just hi-"

"Shut up!" The door opened with Kyo and Shigure arguing around the table. You heart leaped upon seeing him. "I'm through with this!" Kyo exclaimed in annoyance.

"Kyo, have you eaten?" You stood up. "I'm not fucking hungry!" He yelled at you before going up to his room. "Don't take it on (y/n)! And take your shoes off!" Shigure took of his tie and you immediately sat beside him to know what happened.

He pinched your cheek, "I just tricked him in taking a test to transfer schools. Oh, good news, you'll no longer be homeschooled as well. You will be attending to Yuki and Tohru's school now." Is your ears decieving you? You're allowed to go to school now?! You grabbed Shigure's shoulder.

"Really?! B-But why?" You were not allowed to go out in public unless Kyo is with you and it's not a long-term thing. As much as possible, Akito wanted you to stay indoors. "Akito said it would be good for you, (y/n)." You suddenly became teary-eyed.

You sniffled and tried to contain your tears as you stood up abruptly and went to Kyo.

Yuki began to be more skeptical when he heard Akito's name being brought up. "What could he be planning this time..." He looked at you doing your best to not fall of the stairs and then to Tohru eating with bliss.

Yuki would be more cautious from now on.

"I did it." You felt proud, making your way to Kyo's room. You know he's expecting you so the door was not lock so you casually opened the door, "Kyo?" Kyo was on the floor so he pulled you down. Seeing your smile, he assumed Shigure already told you about the new arrangements.

"You know?" He looked at you and you nodded. "I hate this. Why do I have to do this? It's not like going to school is going to help me." You let him complain, waiting for him to cool down his mind. "Then, you can skip school." You suggested and he gritted his teeth.

"And leave you there? Not a chance. As much as I hate crowds or public places, I don't want a certain idiot be falling on stairs or getting hit by people." You can't help but smile. "You're such a dork, Kyo." You rested your head against his shoulder.

He flinched and stammered,"S-Shut up."

Silence filled the room, not that it mattered.

It wasn't the kind of silence in which you coupd feel the tension nor awkwardness, it just felt natural. Closing your eyes, you let yourself dozed off.

Hey Kyo, I can always count on you right?

I'm sorry Kyo.

The sound of an alarm woke you up making you feel a little groggy. You were in a bed apparently making you a little confused. "Nice hair, geek." Kyo teased before helping you get up.

"Sorry for falling asleep in your room. Excuse me~"' You yawned as you continued to feel your way to the bathroom to get yourself ready for your very first day in a school. After putting on some clothes, you went to the room next to yours.

"Yuki? Can you fix my hair?" You said, excitement was evident in not only your voice but your entire persona as well. "Why of course, come, it is your first day." The prince brushed your hair and did his best to tie your hair into a bun letting a few baby hair frame your face.

"Wait, I got something that would match you." You felt him placing 2 hair pins on both side of your hair. "Perfect, you will definitely grab everyone's attention now princess." Yuki let you feel around your hair.

"As if the way I walk around is not a head turner already. Thankyou Yuki~" You hugged him, catching him off guard. He then heard your stomach growling and the both of you laughed in response.

"Let's get some breakfast, Honda-san said she has prepared it already." After going down and having your breakfast with an ever-so complaining Kyo, all four of you began to walk to school.

Your excitement grew with each step, making you a little bit more clumsy than usual and of course, Kyo annoyed you by constantly saying you're a klutz and you'll just stick your tongue out.

But alas, you really can't have everything in this world as you have learned you are not in the same class as the three.

"That can't be right!" Kyo gritted his teeth, he could almost rip their schedule in half. "Calm down, stupid cat. You're just attracting more unnecessary attention." Yuki said in deadpanned voice. Internally shaking his head and cursing he faced you and placed his hands on your shoulder.

"Don't worry (y/n), this is just temporary. I'll have a talk to the teachers about it." What Yuki said somehow did comforted you but the fear and the anxiety is still high. You clenched your first, you did not want to trouble any of them longer so you put on a big smile.

"I just got to suck this up." You thought.

"It's okay guys, you act like I'm some kind of a helpless PWD. I can manage this." The three looked at you before sighing once more. "I'll escort you to your room then. Honda-san, please go on ahead." Kyo refused. "Why are you the one to escort her?! I can escort her myself, damned rat." Yuki scoffed. "And, do you know where it is? Just step on your tail and go to class." Before the tension between the two grow more than anyone can handle, you grabbed the both with their ears.

They both yelped and pain as you released their ears.

"I'll be fine. See you when I see you Kyo and Tohru too!" Tohrus smiled. "I'll come and get you when it's lunch time, (y/n)!" You then cling on to Yuki before waving goodbye to Kyo.

You can't shake off the feeling that the two of you are being stared as you walk down the hall. "You can skip school for today you know. Or for the rest of the days until I'm able to change your room assignment." You shaked your head at his bad suggestion.

"You're going to make me have a bad reputation, prince." Yuki coughed, face red from embarrassment. Hearing you say his...alias is something else. Yuki stopped in his tracks, you were already infront of your classroom. "Do you need help to get to your seat?" He was really hesitant to leave you here when he can feel all the stares are on you. "I can manage, thankyou, Yuki. I owe you lots now!" You beamed like a child, Yuki pushed your hair away from your face out if habit.

"Have a nice day, (y/n)." He watched you take a seat somewhere at the front.

The bell rang and Yuki went on his way to his class mentally thinking, "She'll be alright."

No one knew the confused stares that you're getting had a hint of hatred.

[unibrowzz]

Mod (finally) reviews all 67 winners of the Eurovision Song Contest Part IV: The 1980s

Ah yes, the 80s. One of my favourite decades for music overall, and one of the only decades in Eurovision where I wouldn’t immediately jump at the chance to change most of the songs that won, the other decade being the 2000s. 

But at least with the 80s there was more quality songs per year, whereas the 2000s was mostly drivel.

I also count the 80s as being somewhat of a turning point in the contest’s history, and by that I mean it always seemed to me like it was the decade where the UK really began to stop caring. Most people know the song that won in 1985, but nobody knows what won in 1986. Everyone knows Johnny Logan won twice, but couldn’t name his second song. Everyone knows Celine Dion competed, but can’t remember if she won or what she sang. 

That and countries also started experimenting with more modern sounds and outfits towards the end. The early 80s is just an extension of the 70s I swear. 

But that’s enough of all that, how do I find the winning songs?

1980- What’s Another Year?

Country: Ireland

Artist: Johnny Logan 

Language: English

Thoughts: Ah yes, the song that makes every 50something woman in the UK and Ireland all doey-eyed and rosy cheeked as they remember back to when they were a teenager watching this on TV and drooling at the lovely looking sad Irishman singing his sorrows into the microphone.  Or that’s my experience with this song anyway. Another experience is that most vintage fans I know tend to dislike this song on the grounds of it beating out [insert song here] Everyone has their favourite from 1980 since it was honestly a pretty strong year, but even though this song isn’t my first place for that year I can still clearly see why it won. See, 1980 had a lot of pop songs, so a slow, sad song like this one was bound to stand out, whether it was popular or not. Luckily for this one, it turned out to be a popular choice. Other songs wouldn’t be so lucky… Back on track though. Like I said, this is a very sad and melancholy song with sad and melancholy lyrics, which not only made it stand out in its year, but also made it stand out amongst other Eurovision songs of its time. It’s strange to think, but at this point in the contest’s history there hadn’t been a winner with lyrics so solemn and personal. See, in modern Eurovision, every other song is the artist baring their soul about their horrible ex-boyfriend, or their depression, or past abuse, or whatever, so knowing there was a period where songs like that were so rare is just… surreal to me.

Is this my personal winner for this year? This or Greece tbh, I don’t mind this one

If no, what is? Greece- Anna Vissi- “Autostop”

Personal ranking (out of 67): 23rd

1981: Making Your Mind Up

Country: United Kingdom

Artist: Bucks Fizz

Language: English

Thoughts: Ah yes, the UK winner that nobody really likes, but the BBC still forces at us anyway because they’re proud they came up with a gimmick that everybody remembers. Or maybe it’s not that well remembered, but nobody would know that because we’re reminded of it every year. This song is… alright. Just alright. The first listen of this one is always the best, because after a while it just gets kind of annoying. The singing ESPECIALLY starts to grate you for a while. Even in the studio version the two girls sound unbearably shrill and whiny, and I’m not sure if that’s their fault or the songwriter’s (since if I remember correctly only one of them was a professional singer). I’m seriously convinced there’s no way for a female vocalist to pull this off without sounding terrible.  Again, this one’s perfectly fine and serviceable, but that doesn’t mask the fact it’s still the worst UK winner and the worst winner of the 1980s too. 

Is this my personal winner for this year? No

If no, what is? Portugal- Carlos Paião- “Playback”

Personal ranking (out of 67): 58th

1982: Ein Bißchen Frieden

Country: West Germany

Artist: Nicole

Language: German (Translation: “A little peace”)

Thoughts: This song gives me a really warm, nostalgic feeling, and I don’t know why. I mean, I know this one did well internationally, so it’s possible I just heard it as a kid, but given how I grew up in the early 2000s, “Eurovision is a shitty freak show full of weirdos from the USSR who gang up on the UK and don't vote for us on purpose” era Britain, that’s highly unlikely. Anyways, this is such a warm, fuzzy kind of song. It has a lovely… round-the-campfire, singalong kind of vibe, like this is meant to be sung by a load of long haired hippies with flowers in their hair and CND symbols drawn on their cheeks. And it’s… … Also kind of bland. If you’ve been reading my personal winners so far, you’ll have noticed I definitely have a soft spot for old German entries, so it’s a shame I find the one song they actually won with to be so… generic. It’s like they got tired of being unique so decided to send the same saccharine fluff everyone else was sending, and guess what, it paid off majorly, because this song was a huge hit at the time. Something about that kind of bothers me, like, out of all the entries they sent, it’s the one that’s the most “Eurovision-y” that ended up winning. And there’s something depressing in that.

Is this my personal winner for this year? No

If no, what is? United Kingdom- Bardo- “One Step Further”

Personal ranking (out of 67): 50th

1983: Si la vie est Cadeau

Country: Luxembourg

Artist: Corinne Hermés

Language: French (Translation: “If life were a gift”)

Thoughts: You want a tip on how to stand out amongst Eurovision fans? Say you like this song. Probably won’t make you very popular, but you’ll stand out at least. I will confess, I, too, was part of the hate-wagon for this song. Like most fans I knew, I’d complain about how boring and uninteresting it was and how it, ahem, “robbed” so many other entries, and how basic it was, et cetera, et cetera. But… honestly? It’s not even that bad. Sure I had other favourites from 1983 (the ones I could stand watching anyway, the host that year was so unimaginably terrible I gave up watching halfway through. I DARE you to watch the whole thing without wanting to neck yourself), but this song gets way more hate than it deserves. I honestly don’t think this song is half as bad as I made it out to be myself, or as bad as the fandom makes it out to be. It’s got a decent melody, some solid vocals, some appealingly 80s instrumental, like there’s a lot I like here. …Until you read the lyrics and realise they’re almost as half-assed and lazy as All Kinds of Everything’s, but I digress. Did I prefer other songs from that year? Of course. Am I going to complain about this one winning? Nah. It’s alright. 

Is this my personal winner for this year? No

If no, what is? Sweden- Carola Häggkvist- “Främling”

Personal ranking (out of 67): 41st

1984- Diggiloo, Diggiley

Country: Sweden

Artist: Herreys

Language: Swedish

Thoughts: Whenever I was a younger fan I used to describe this song as being drunk-dad-at-a-wedding-music performed by three sentient Ken dolls, and I still stand by that statement. And I don’t really know how else to describe this one. It certainly has its charm, and it’s still a likeable song, but it also feels very… vapid. Like if this song were a person, they’d be a bit of a bimbo. And I mean, the song’s about how the singer’s oh-so-happy and prancing down the street in his brand new shoes, so that’s probably a fair description. Part of me wonders if that’s down to old Eurovision songs being vapid in general or if it’s down to the schlager genre itself requiring songs to be kinda neutered and happy-go-lucky, but even though I do like this song, it does come off as being a bit bland. A bit by-the-numbers and playing-it-safe. And I don’t mind songs like that, but I’d rather they didn’t win, y’know?

Is this my personal winner for this year? Not really

If no, what is? Italy- Alice & Franco- “Il Treni di Tozeur”

Personal ranking (out of 67): 15th

1985- La det Swinge

Country: Norway

Artist: Bobbysocks

Language: Norwegian

Thoughts: Ah yes, the song which finally hauled Norway into first place after years of being a regular last-placer. Maybe the UK should take some notes instead of blaming Brexit. Or Russia. Or Iraq. Or anything other than their own apathy, for that matter. But this is about La det Swinge and not the UK, so what are my thoughts on it? Well it’s… It’s the kind of song I imagine my mom and aunt would sing at a wedding if they ever attended one. It’s a very fun song, a little cheesy, sure, but it’s hard to not like a song that’s this upbeat and cheery.  And yeah I know it’s because it’s schlager and that’s generally a really cheerful genre by default, I touched on that in the review above, 

Is this my personal winner for this year? This or Israel

If no, what is? Israel- Yizhar Cohen- “Olé Olé”

Personal ranking (out of 67): 14th

1986- J’aime la Vie

Country: Belgium

Artist: Sandra Kim

Language: French

Thoughts: This song is an enigma because I’m an absolute slut for 80s pop, yet, for some reason, I find this song painfully average and uninteresting. Now, I’ll get it off my chest and say that 1986 was also a painfully average and uninteresting year, and most of the time I just felt myself remembering the singer more than the song, and even then I struggle to remember what some of the acts even were. It was just such a boring blur of a year I’m surprised the juries even managed to stay awake to pick a winner. And I GUESS you could argue that this song is so upbeat and peppy that it woke them up, but that doesn’t excuse how bloody generic it is. Like, this is the most generic 80s song you can imagine, and not in a good way. It feels more like stock music than an actual publicly released pop song. Had it not won, I doubt it would’ve stood out to me at all; it would’ve just faded into the background with all the other muted, 80s-coloured mush from this year. Basically, there’s a reason the singer’s age is the only thing noteworthy about this song.

Is this my personal winner for this year? Not really

If no, what is? Luxembourg- Sherisse Laurence- “L’amour de ma vie”

Personal ranking (out of 67): 49th

1987- Hold me Now

Country: Ireland

Artist: Johnny Logan 

Language: English

Thoughts: Ah yes, the superior Johnny Logan winner.  And I’m not sure why everyone forgets this one because Mother of Mercy this song is in another league entirely compared to the other schlock Ireland’s won with. Like this is their best winner, no competition. One of their best songs overall as well. One of the best entries from the 80s, one of the best winners of the 80s, one of the best winners… Yeah, I really like this song.  I’ll admit to sleeping on this one for too long myself, always dismissing it as some boring Irish ballad to go with all the other boring Irish ballads they somehow managed to win with (we’ll get to that later), and always agreeing with people who said XYZ country (always Yugolslavia) should have won instead.  Basically I learnt the hard way to never judge a song on its country and genre. But one day I found myself in the midst of a revisiting trip, going back to winners I didn't pay much attention to, just to see if there was anything I’d missed the first time round. And something about the lyrics in this song resonated with me a lot more than I thought they would. In a strange way, it made me feel older; like I’d grown up and was able to relate to the words in a song and appreciate it more than I could when I was younger. The line “what do you say when words are not enough?” especially hits harder than it should; as someone with autism I tend to find showing emotions difficult, even in virtual conversation where I’m not using my voice or face, because… Well, what do you say when your words aren’t enough?

Is this my personal winner for this year? Yes

If no, what is? N/A

Personal ranking (out of 67): 2nd

1988- Ne Partez pas Sans Moi

Country: Switzerland 

Artist: Céline Dion 

Language: French

Thoughts: Telling people Céline Dion won this thing is a new favourite hobby of mine, just to see the confused reaction. And that’s the most interesting thing about this song because it’s… fine, I guess? It’s a perfectly serviceable 80s power ballad, but there’s no bells and whistles to make me sit up and declare it any better than just “okay”. It’s basically the ballad equivalent of J’aime la Vie from 1986, in that it’s extremely 80s and also in French, but there’s nothing to make it that memorable aside from the singer herself. And even then this isn’t the song that made her famous anyway. Even her singing doesn't make this one stand out, partially because the song doesn't do anything special with it, and partially because she just blends in with all the other good singers of this era. And that’s kinda sad to think about.

Is this my personal winner for this year? Hmmm....

If no, what is? Greece- Afroditi Frida- “Clown”

Personal ranking (out of 67): 22nd

1989- Rock Me

Country: Yugoslavia

Artist: Riva

Language: Croatian

Thoughts: So this is another song it really took me a while to get into (there’s lots of those, trust me) and one that was very briefly in my top three overall favourites. It’s slid down a few slots since then, though I would still say it’s… Somewhere in the top 15.  I don’t really have a lot to say about this one, if I’m honest. It’s just a good, fun, solid song which stood out in a very dull and ballad-saturated year, nothing more, nothing less. The lyrics are nice too, being about a bored musician who learns to love music again by teaching himself how to play pop songs to entertain his friends. That’s a unique subject and I can imagine it resonating with a lot of people who’ve fallen out with a hobby they used to love because they took it too seriously (providing they either speak Croatian or have looked up the lyrics, of course). I mean, it resonates with me at least. All in all, I just like this song for its message more than anything else.

Is this my personal winner for this year? No

If no, what is? Portugal- Da Vinci- “Conquistador”

Personal ranking (out of 67): 9th